Fire and Wind
by inheritancefan
Summary: Book 3 Eragon masters new magic which makes him more powerful; a new Rider appears; Murtagh is struggling to break his ties with Galbatorix, written assuming Murtagh knows true names can change, and whole Roran thing in book 2 doesn't happen
1. Chapter 1

Eragon snuggled next to Saphira. He recalled the events of the last four weeks in his head; the easiest way to keep some thoughts out of your mind was to think of others. And he dreaded thinking of Morzan and the suffering Morzan had inflicted on the inhabitants of Alagaesia: dragons, dwarves, elves, humans, and Riders. _How long ago was the Battle of the Burning Plains? It was only four weeks ago. But I have changed so much since._

_Aye_. Saphira agreed_. You have become so withdrawn since_. She turned to look at him_. What prompted this change in you? Was it what Murtagh said?_

_It was. I don't get it. Why didn't people tell me before? Brom knew. Oromis certainly knew; Brom would have confided in him. Were they scared of me, that I would turn into my father_?

_We already had this conversation before,_ replied Saphira wearily. _Remember Arya and Nasuada. They were shocked, yes, but did not view you differently from before. _

Eragon remembered. They had indeed comforted him. He thought of the Varden. Upon his advice, Nasuada had decided to march the Varden back to Farthen Dur after the battle. If the Varden moved to Surda, then it would be taking a more aggressive, exposed position in the war, one that Eragon felt that the Varden would not be able to keep. After all, Murtagh's and Galbatorix's strength greatly outmatched his. No, the Varden would need to wait and hope some more, and Eragon would need more training with Oromis and Glaedr.

After the battle, Eragon and Saphira had rushed ahead of the Varden to Farthen Dur. After the dwarfen king Hrothgar had died, the dwarves needed a new leader - one that would support the Varden. Nasuada had felt that Eragon, who was a member of the Dûrgrimst Ingeitum dwarf clan, could persuade the dwarves to elect Orik as king. She had therefore sent Eragon and Saphira to attend the dwarf clan meetings, and hopefully influence the election process. Eragon remembered the frustration he had endured during those clan meetings. The dwarves seemingly felt no sense of urgency, bickering over trivial issues. Finally, after three weeks of deadlock, Orik had managed to win the election by a narrow margin. During the coronation, Saphira had managed a enormous feat of magic, repairing the Isidar Mithrim. Eragon and Saphira had then started towards Ellesmera only the previous day.

Eragon's mind drifted towards Arya. He had been distressed upon learning that Arya would not be accompanying them to Ellesmera; as an ambassador and diplomat, she had duties with the Varden. After Eragon's foolish behavior at the Blood-Oath Celebration, Eragon's friendship with Arya had been tense, not relaxed at all. Eragon wished that Arya was with him now so that he would have an opportunity to patch up any rifts between their friendship.

Sighing, Eragon closed his eyes and fell asleep.

The next day, rider and dragon continued their way to Ellesmera, stopping only for meals. In the afternoon, Eragon noticed something odd in the distance with his Elven senses. _Saphira! Look ahead! That looks like a building by the Elves. Its structure is certainly too graceful for any human building._

_How odd. Should we go check it out? It doesn't look like anyone's there. _

_Yes, Saphira. Besides, if they turn out to be enemies, we can deal with them. _

With that said, Saphira angled her flight to the building. The sun dipped lower and lower down the horizon as they flew on.

By sunset, they had reached the building. With his sharpened vision, Eragon could see someone - an old man - walking outside the house sized building. He had a long beard which reached his knees and was thin but tall. As Eragon and Saphira flew overhead, he looked up. "Greetings, Rider!" he called, showing a row of golden teeth in his mouth. Eragon studied the man's face closer. The man had gaunt, hollow cheeks, tangled, long hair, and his eyes carried a look of madness in them. The man beckoned Eragon to land_._

_We can't trust this man, however frail he looks_, Saphira said_. We shall continue our journey. _

_Aye. _Eragon agreed, and without saying a word, rider and dragon flew on unhindered.

The old man muttered something, then went inside the house.

In a few days, Saphira and Eragon had entered the lush forest of the elves, Du Weldenvarden_._ They were rapidly reaching Ellesmera.

_I want to go directly to Oromis_, Eragon told Saphira, a hint of anger and frustration in his tone_. _

_Of course_, Saphira replied calmly_. For your peace of mind. However, remember - we must be respectful_.

Eragon snorted_. Is keeping us, me, in the dark, respectful_?

Saphira hesitated, then said_, I trust Oromis and Glaedr. They did this probably for your own good. Anyways, we aren't even sure that they know about your father_.

They flew on in silence for half an hour. Eragon could see his masters' cottage up ahead, situated at the edges of a cliff. Oromis and Glaedr were waiting outside.

"Hello, Eragon!" Oromis cried. "Hello, Saphira!"

_Greetings, Eragon Shadeslayer and Saphira Barjutskular._

As Saphira began landing, Eragon, impatient to confront his masters, jumped off her back. The ground flew up to meet him twenty feet down, and Eragon landed soundly on his two feet. Eragon greeted Oromis and Glaedr rather coldly. _They had better explain this whole mess about me being Morzan's son._

Oromis beckoned Eragon into his cottage. "Come. We shall have a cup of tea, and then talk about whatever you are so impatient about."

A tide of anger rose in Eragon, but he forced it down. It would do him no good to lose his temper with his masters. Instead, he sat in the chair Oromis offered him. Oromis handed Eragon a cup of tea.

"Thank you, ebrithil," Eragon murmured. He sipped his tea.

Oromis smiled. "You forgot to check it for poisoning."

Eragon scowled at Oromis. He was too angry with Oromis for jokes. Although all he wanted to do was to stand up and shout at Oromis, he forced his body to remain seated. After a moment's hesitation, Eragon forced a smile.

"So why have you come for this sudden visit?" Oromis asked calmly. He sipped tea. "You know that you can rest for today and tomorrow. You've had a long journey, and I'm sure you would be eager to rest."

Eragon could not control his temper. He stood up abruptly, knocking his chair to the floor. "Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you tell me that Morzan was my father? Certainly you know. Certainly you knew that he was my father. Was I not to be trusted with such information? Were you scared that I might turn into Morzan?" Eragon asked, voice bitter.

Oromis sighed. "Please sit, Eragon."

Eragon glared at his master for a brief second or two, then slowly sat.

"Eragon, if I had told you that Morzan was your father, how would you have reacted? You know that you would have been very distressed by the news. Eragon, you are young, and you are not used to such a shock or such emotional distress. No. I'm sorry. You are young, and you _were_ not ready. It was for your own good. We did not want you to become distracted from your training, because the fate of Alagaesia was much more important than that. Besides, you were so young and innocent, I did not want to cause you needless pain."

Eragon laughed bitterly. "So I am denied everything for my own good. I was denied intimate, personal knowledge, which surely, I deserved to know, for my own good, was I? I am denied Arya's-"

_Eragon. Careful, _Saphira warned.

"Sorry, ebrithil. I did not mean to talk about that. But it's true."

Glaedr touched Eragon's mind. _You must understand, it was for your own good. We had hoped that you would have not heard of this at all, until you matured more, until you learned to handle such information. Remember, we could not predict that Murtagh would disclose such information to you. We never meant for you to be hurt in that respect. Forgive us, Eragon. We made the folly of assuming the young - for you are young - would not have experienced much shock and pain in their life. But we forgot that you have suffered more, gone through more hardship than many of the elves had. We wanted to make sure that you were more experienced, you understand? _

Eragon opened his mouth to protest, but saw the good intentions behind Oromis's and Glaedr's actions. He took a deep breath, then said, "I'm sorry Master Oromis, Master Glaedr. I have let my anger and frustration control me, cloud my mind."

Oromis nodded. "If it helps, look at the issue from a different perspective. Morzan may be your biological father, but otherwise, he is father only in name. Our fathers influence us, help us grow. Forgive me for letting my pride speak for me, but I am your father more than Morzan is, in that sense. I am proud to be your teacher. Brom was your father more than Morzan was. Garrow too."

Eragon felt his cheeks turn red. Oromis had honored him, calling Eragon his own son, and saying he was proud of being his teacher. His master didn't praise people lightly, he had learned, and so compliments like this were very encouraging. "Thank you, ebrithil. You have honored me a lot. I am sorry for my rude behavior towards you."

"Don't be," Oromis replied. "I understand that such a terrible piece of information is not easy to digest, to live with. However, do not let it bother you. Do not let who your father is define who you are_."_

_Exactly what I've been telling you all along, little one_, Saphira told Eragon smugly.

"I will keep that advice in mind, ebrithil," Eragon replied.

"Then you are excused. There will be no class today or tomorrow, so you can rest."

Eragon bowed, then climbed Saphira and flew away, pondering what was just said.


	2. Chapter 2

Murtagh sat in his room, thinking about the words Eragon had said to him during the Battle of the Burning Plains, "The elves taught me that it is possible for one to change his true name, if he changes his character. Do you understand, Murtagh? You can and Thorn can be free from Galbatorix! Without your true name, he has no power over you!"

Murtagh and Thorn had agreed to attempt this, albeit secretly. They did not want to get on the bad side of the king; after the Battle of the Burning Plains, they had quickly learned that the king was not all pleasant. He had been in quite a rage, ordering Murtagh to be whipped by the Ra' zac. Murtagh could remember the searing pain on his back, the feeling of hot blood pouring down his skin. However, the king would never damage Murtagh or Thorn permanantly, Murtagh had realized. They were too valuable. As Murtagh thought of the king, he felt his hatred for him rise. The king had caused all this suffering on Murtagh, from the time Murtagh was born. The king had treated Murtagh cruelly, enslaving him, torturing his mind, and ordering those cursed Ra' zac to whip him.

Murtagh shuddered with revulsion as he thought of the Ra' zac. They were foul, sadistic creatures which he hated with ever fiber of his body. _Eragon must feel the same way. _To Murtagh, his brother was something of an enigma. What made Eragon resist the Empire even though resistance was futile? What made Eragon willing to sacrifice himself for his fellow comrades and his cause, when he should be valuing his own and Saphira's life above all others? Murtagh remembered when Eragon had saved the elf from Gi'lead. Murtagh had only followed along because he had no choice but to, because, as he believed, he was a selfish brat, but Eragon had been willing - yes, willing - to put his life in risk for the elf. _I must understand Eragon._

Thorn entered Murtagh's mind. _Aye. I agree. Understanding him might be the way to change our true names, you realize? If we understand what motivates him, we can change. _

_You are wise, Thorn. You are very wise. Anyways, how are you?_

Galbatorix kept Murtagh and Thorn seperated, probably as a punishment for releasing Eragon. Murtagh was not allowed to leave the palace, or his room, unless Galbatorix called for him. Murtagh secretly liked this; it gave him time to think and ponder escape_._

_I'm fine_, Thorn replied_. You know, Murtagh, you haven't been a selfish brat all the time, like you think. You haven't always put your own comfort above others. You are always considerate when dealing with me. _

_That is because of our bond as dragon and rider, Thorn. _

_Fine, but you have acted like your brother would have in other times, too. Remember, you allowed Eragon to escape, to keep the hopes of the Varden alive, to keep the hopes of the millions oppressed by Galbatorix alive. _Thorn paused to think. _I think I am beginning to understand. Maybe it is your destiny to be on the side of good in the end. Maybe that's why you show these signs of good, because it is inherently your nature to do so._

Murtagh thought, then said_, Thorn, your true name is your inherent nature._

_No, Murtagh, it does not have to be. Maybe there is a name truer than your true name, or maybe the way you act is not due to your inherent nature, but fate and destiny. Maybe your nature right now might be a result of inexperience, and as you grow more, you will finally become your true self. Murtagh, we should try to be compassionate for other human beings. Understanding people like Eragon will be our first step to changing our true names. I believe I am ready for a change, after seeing and understanding the world more. Maybe we should feel remorse, Murtagh. I certainly feel remorse for some things I have done - like killing those innocent servants just because Galbatorix was mad, and wanted me to_.

Something in Murtagh's mind clicked_. Remorse. I definitely feel remorse. He ordered me to kill tons of innocent people, Thorn. Remember that village, Carvahall, we burned down to the ground? That was the work of honest men. But we destroyed it. All of it. Eragon grew up in that village. As for our natures, who knows? Maybe you're right - once we have been exposed to more, we will become less self centered and our true names will change? Why are the Varden fighting this war? It must be for their friends, families, and the people of Alagaesia who have suffered under the king. It must be for their basic rights of freedom and independence, which the king does not allow. And why does the king fight this war? For himself. Then what are our motives in this war? _

_We are starting to understand, Murtagh_! Thorn said excitedly_. Our motives are ourselves. We fight to stay alive. But maybe, if we start to care about others more, we can change. But, another question pops up. Will we be willing to change? Will we be more willing to take into account the lives of others around us? _

_I know that I will, Thorn. I have now realized that I've missed Eragon as a friend, ever since I left. He's been the closest friend (besides you) I've had. I remember, at the Varden, I had this gut instinct feeling that I had begun to change, that I had begun to take a different view on my life. But then Eragon was torn away from me, and my care for others which I had just begun to develop became a care for myself. Thank you Thorn, for helping me see that. _

_Aye. I just realized something. Meeting Saphira has changed me. I'm not attracted as a mate, but more, as a fellow dragon I can relate to. Maybe if I can relate, I can care for others besides you_.

Murtagh smiled, his first real smile in a long time_. If I were a blind man before this conversation, I suddenly feel as if I have regained my eyesight. Now we know what me must do, Thorn. Now we know! _

A servant knocked on the door. Murtagh stiffened, and quickly pushed these thoughts into the innermost sections of his mind. He did not want anyone to see what he was thinking.

"Enter."

A trembling servant stepped in the room, and bowed. "My lord, His Majesty the King desires you to have dinner with him thirty minutes from now." Murtagh could almost feel the servant's fear pervade the room. "His Majesty tells you to bring your dragon, that there will be guests, and to report to the eastern dining room." The servant bowed again, and walked out.

_Thorn? _

_I heard._

_The eastern dining room, _Murtagh mused. _It's used for more secret occasions. What do you think the king wants?_

_We'll just have to wait and see_, Thorn replied.

Galbatorix stood up. The room fell silent. Murtagh saw a trace of a smile on Galbatorix's face. The smile was not a happy, kind smile, but rather, a diabolical, heinous smile usually worn by madmen. Which was what the king was - the most powerful madman in the world. _What has pleased the king so?_

Murtagh glanced around at the other guests. There were two spies for the Empire. one sorcerer who was quite powerful by normal human standards, the king's closest advisors, and one low ranked soldier. All the people in this room were bound to Galbatorix by oaths of loyalty. _I wonder what we are here for._

"My friends, this is a triumphant day for the Empire," Galbatorix said in his smooth, honeycoated voice. The king seemed friendly like this, but Murtagh was no fool. Galbatorix was a great actor. "Many years ago, two eggs were stolen from me from the treacherous Varden. The blue one has hatched for the Rider Eragon. And the last egg was lost, stolen by some mysterious thief in Alagaesia."

Understanding dawned upon Murtagh. _He has an egg!_

_It does seem so, _Thorn remarked.

"Until now," the king continued. He opened a bag, and took out a green stone. The audience gasped. The king then proceeded to explain how the two spies had learned of the mysterious egg thief and used the help of the sorcerer to track the thief down. After two years, they had determined that the egg was somewhere in the barracks of the Empire. In the end, it was the soldier who had by chance captured the thief (after the barracks were warned of the egg thief) who found the egg and returned the egg to Galbatorix. The sorcerer would be promoted to the rank of chief magician for Galbatorix, and the two spies and soldiers would become nobles and parts of Galbatorix's court.

Murtagh listened to the story, the beginnings of a plan forming in his mind. _Thorn! If we manage to steal the egg, that act might be enough to change our true names! Besides, I'm sick of the king's regime. Stealing the egg will allow us to use ourselves to impact this war in the way _we _want, not the way Galbatorix wants._

Thorn agreed. _Aye, that is true._

"Now, many of you wonder where the egg will be hidden. For that, I will only tell you." He pointed at the two spies. "And you." He pointed at Murtagh. "And you." He pointed at the soldier. "And you." He pointed at the magician. "The rest, you are excused."

The advisors bowed and exited the room.

"You understand, telling this information will place a big burden on you. I am only telling you because you have told me where the egg is. I am only telling you because as a part of my court, I do not expect you to be attacked mentally. Murtagh, you will need to know as my right - hand man. However, you must swear oaths to me that you will not publicize that you know where the egg is."

They swore oaths. All the oaths Murtagh swore were bound to his true name_. If I change my name, I will be free of these oaths_.

"The egg will be hidden in a secret chamber in the dungeons. That is all. You are excused." Disappointment showed on the listener's faces. They would be denied the information of where specifically it would be hidden. "Murtagh, stay behind."

"Yes, Master."

"Now, I shall trust you with the intimate information of where exactly the egg is hidden. I expect you, if I am gone, to protect the egg for me. You understand?"

"Yes, Master."

That night, Murtagh sat on his bed. His nerves were too excited to fall asleep. He didn't want to fall asleep, anyways. He wanted to think about how to best steal the eggs.

_Thorn? Why would Galbatorix tell the others where the egg is?_

_Probably because he suspects a traitor amongst them. That's what I think._

_Then maybe we can make a traitor amongst them._ Murtagh began explaining the plan forming in his head. _I was thinking, we overpower the magician's and the soldier's mind and force them to take the egg, when Galbatorix leaves. We'll need an excuse to be not watching the eggs, of course. We can enter the mind of the two spies and maybe ten more soldiers and make them raid the armory. Then we'll have an excuse to try stop the raid. And we won't be watching the eggs. Once we get the egg, we can transport it somewhere. Do you know that the elf's outpost that Galbatorix is watching? It's outside the Du Weldenvarden, at the very edge. If we take the egg there, the elves might find it. And we can transplant memories into their minds afterwards. _

_That's a good plan, Murtagh. Problem is, will our oaths of loyalty to Galbatorix allow us to do such a thing?_

_All the oaths are bound to our true name. Besides, this will be a less powerful violation of the oath than if we were to do it ourselves. If we change our true names a little, maybe we will be bound less. Then we'll be allowed to carry this out. _

_We shall try that, Murtagh. The only problem is, you need to hide your memories from Galbatorix even if we try this. In fact, we should hide our memories of all our plotting against him. If he searches your mind, its into the torture chambers for us. As for me, no one can break into a dragon's mind, no matter how powerful the person is, unless the rider has his mind broken into. I've thought about this for a while. You know the spell that Galbatorix taught you? The one he makes you use for torture, where you bind someone's memory to a gemstone, and then you put up barriers around the stone so the guy can't remember, then you release the barrier so he remembers, and you put it up again, and keep on doing that until the tortured is close to mad? If you bind your own memories to a stone like that, no one can access that memory besides that binder. If Galbatorix tries to search your mind, he won't find anything. Once we're free, we can bring the memory back._

_Of course! _Murtagh cried._ Thank you of thinking of such things._

_That's what a dragon is for, is it not? Well that, and other things._

_I'll do what you suggested now._

Murtagh took his earrings out. One was made of ruby, the other saphire. Galbatorix had made Murtagh spell the ruby earring so that no one would be able to scry him. It was also spelled against poison. The saphire earring, Murtagh had just chosen to wear in the other ear. _I'll bind my memories to these earrings. I know Galbatorix will never make me take these off - they have my most important spells bound to it already. _He gathered up his magic, then whispered the spell. Suddenly, a weird sensation entered Murtagh. He felt that there was the prescence of something there, not living. He put the earrings on.

_Thorn, can you see what we just discussed in my mind? _Murtagh opened his mind wide to Thorn except for the memories the jewels contained.

_I can't see what we talked about. I can't even see the traces of where its hidden in your mind. If I were the king, I'd think everything in your mind was normal._

Murtagh smiled._ Good._


	3. Chapter 3

The Last Egg

_It is time, _Murtagh thought. He sat in the room next to the chamber where the egg had held. Galbatorix had moved him to this room so Murtagh could protect the egg. He had not slept all of last night, meticulously planning, making sure no part of his plans were off. It was two weeks after Murtagh had first learned of the green egg, and, to Murtagh's suprise, his and Thorn's true names were already beginning to change - enough so that Murtagh and Thorn could steal the dragon egg.

Galbatorix would be gone for five days - and he was rarely out of the palace - to visit Dras Leona and punish its governor for corruption. Murtagh and Thorn had decided to act during daytime, for during night, more defensive wards were placed around the chamber where the egg was hidden. Murtagh reached out with his mind. _Thorn? You'll take the magician's mind. Once you have control of that, take over the other soldier's mind too. I'll take the guards and spies meant to cause the distraction. _

_Remember, _Thorn said, _you must give the signal._

_I shall. _Murtagh reached out with his mind, searching for the guards. He found them easily, their minds protected by a barrier. _Ha!_ Murtagh thought. _They need more than that to get past me. _He hammered their minds. He felt their suprise as they realized they were under attack. The guards succumbed to his pressure easily. Now for the spies. They were in bed, asleep_. What a shame_, Murtagh thought_. Spies' minds are so easy to enter_. When he had gained control of all the minds, he could now control their movements. He forced the spies out of bed first, and made them walk toward the armory_._

_Thorn? Do you have the sorcerer and that soldier?_

_I'm in control. I'll bring them over to the floor above the dungeon. _

_Good_.

Now Murtagh made the guards walk towards the armory also, weapons drawn_. _Once a servant saw the guards, Murtagh would be alerted.The guards made it to the armory without opposition.

"What are you doing?" In one of the guard's minds, he saw a servant approach just outside the armory. "What is the meaning of this?"

The guard brought his sword to the servant's neck at Murtagh's command. "Don't move."

Murtagh smiled. The other servants had seen the guard's gesture, and would call for him and Thorn any time. In Murtagh's own room a bell rang, and a servant's voice was projected to him magically. "Lord, help! There is a attack on the armory by the guards!"

Murtagh frowned. "Where, you say?"

"The armory! Please come!"

"I'm on my way."

_Thorn! _he called. _I've just been alerted. After ten minutes, make them steal the egg and put it into my own room. _

Murtagh dashed out of his room and up the staircase leading out of the dungeon. After the Battle of the Burning Plains, Galbatorix had made Murtagh spell his own body so he possessed the strength and speed of the elves. It was this strength and speed that helped his movements now. After five minutes, Murtagh arrived at the armory, breath even. During that time, he had ordered the guards which he controlled mentally to conduct a noisy search of the army. He made the spies station themselves outside, daggers drawn, holding the servants in their vicinity as prisoners.

"What is this about?" Murtagh demanded, pointing at the spies. It was strange, initiating a conversation between yourself. He then muttered a word of magic, and ropes flew out, binding the spies and servants in place. He entered the armory.

The armory was a large but cluttered room with weapons of every type - pikes, lances, spears, bows, swords, axes, armor, and daggers. Za' roc, Murtagh's sword, was hanging on one rack along with a blue Rider's sword and a green one. Murtagh whispered the same spell again, and bound the guards in place_._

_Thorn. Do you have the egg yet? No. They're working at the spells right now. You need to free some of the defensive wards, you know, or else they can't get in. _

_Of course. Don't make the sorcerer try summon spirits to do it. He might turn himself into a Shade. _Murtagh muttered another spell. The wards were broken. Another word of magic, and the guards flew out of the room, into the hallway outside. Murtagh followed them out of the armory.

The other guards of the palace were already waiting outside the armory. Their eyes widened when they saw the guards Murtagh controlled fly out of the armory.

"Make sure they don't escape," Murtagh commanded. "I'm going to look inside their minds."

Instead of looking inside the guards' minds, however, he planted false memories inside them. The first was of the sorcerer, spies, and soldier bribing them with money to attack the armory. The second was of the sorcerer giving them the signal to attack. Murtagh erased the guards' memory of him entering their minds.

"They were plotting something with a sorcerer and these spies," he said, pointed at the guards who were prisoners. He felt Thorn's mind nudging his_._

_They put the egg in your room and are on their way out of the dungeon. _

_Good_.

"Put those ten prisoners into the dungeons," Murtagh told the guards. "I have yet to interrogate these two spies."

He then planted memories into the spies' minds. He planted memories of the spies meeting the sorcerer and soldier and plotting with them. He then planted the memories of the spies bribing the guards, and other memories necessary to fool Galbatorix.

"Throw these spies into the dungeons also. These servants have done nothing wrong. Do not harm them," Murtagh ordered the guards. "I will accompany you."

"Yes sir!" They made their way towards the dungeons_._

_Thorn_! Murtagh called out while they walked_. Make sure the sorcerers and the soldiers come into our sight_. He sent Thorn a image of where they were.

Sure enough, after they entered a dungeon, a wild - eyed sorcerer and soldier burst into their vision. "Stop!" Murtagh cried. "Arrest them!" he told the guards. Murtagh took control of another of the guard's mind. He made the guard hit the sorcerer and the soldier very hard on the head, hard enough to cause memory loss and crack their skulls. The plan was to erase the sorcerer's and the soldier's memory so that they would forget everything about stealing the egg. Thus, when Galbatorix tried to search there minds, he would see nothing. Murtagh would use the guards hitting the soldiers on the head as an excuse.

"Stop, you fools!" Murtagh cried out at the guards, acting. "Slytha," he murmured so only he could hear. The sorcerer and soldier collapsed, asleep. "You idiot! You made them faint! You might have caused their brains permanent damage!"

Murtagh erased the guard's memory of having his mind getting taken over, then released him. "I'm sorry," the guard mumbled.

"Arrest that guard as well," Murtagh commanded the remaining guards. "I want nobody hurting these prisoners, understand? We need to preserve their memory for interrogation."

He made the sorcerer and soldier wake with a word of magic. "Did you steal the egg?" Murtagh asked.

"Egg? What egg?" the sorcerer giggled. The soldier just stared blankly into space. Thorn, according to plan, was making the men act as if they were suffering from brain damage.

"I'll see soon enough." Murtagh entered their conciousnesses, and permanently erased their memories of everything but childhood. Murtagh felt bad doing this, but it was necessary for the good of Alagaesia, he told himself.

"Look what you did!" he cried at the guard who had hit the soldiers on the head. "You made them forget! You made them forget everything! You made the egg thiefs forget everything!" He turned to the other guards. "Throw all these prisoners into the dungeon. Order a magician to contact Galbatorix and tell him about everything. I will go to my room and think."

The guards bowed and hurried away. _Well that wasn't that bad, _he thought to Thorn. _We were actually freed of Galbatorix's oaths. Or some of them, at least. _

_Aye. We have done well, _Thorn agreed. _Galbatorix will have no reason to suspect us. None at all. As for me, I am glad of saving a fellow dragon from slavery._

Murtagh walked into his room and seized the package lying on his bed. With trembling fingers, he opened it, and took out the emerald green egg inside.

Should he write a letter with the egg? No. If the egg fell into the wrong hands, he would be in trouble. It was better to stay anonymous. He raised the package over his head and called on his magic. With a flash of red light, the egg disappeared, on its way to an elf outpost at the edge of Du Weldenvarden.

He then bound his memories of this to the ruby and saphire in his earrings. Satisfied, he thought, _With good luck, the egg will get an elf rider. _

In the distance, Arya could see a well fortified castle, the elf outpost of times before the Fall of the Riders, which had just recently begun revival. She had been running for one and a half weeks now, on her way to the elves. She was glad to be going home, as she missed the lush, green forest of pines. Should she announce her arrival beforehand, or be quiet about it? No, she would be quiet about it, not liking to attract attention. Besides, her arrival would surely distract Eragon from his studies.

She worried about Eragon. Their friendship had been tense when Eragon had returned to the Varden. Eragon was no doubt afraid of offending her, and Arya was afraid of making Eragon once again express his love for her, distracting both of them. Thus, they had both kept contact with each other as minimal as possible. She knew that she should have talked to Eragon and comforted him, because he obviously needed comforting once he had learned of his father. She knew that she and Saphira alone would probably be able to talk him out of his depression, but she also knew that talking to Eragon would be distracting for both of them.

Besides, she felt confused about her feelings for Eragon. The depressed, moody look that she had seen on his face many times after the Battle of the Burning Plains had invoked a weird feeling inside her. It was protective and caring. Why did she feel that way about him? _Because we're friends, _she thought.

_Or is it something more than friendship?_ a nagging, annoying voice inside her head retorted.

_Shut up, _she told the voice. She knew that she could not love Eragon. She was old and he was young. She was an elf and he was a human. She was a diplomat and he was a Rider, both important duties, both duties requiring utmost dedication. And a relationship with Eragon would be very distracting for both of them_. _

_Isn't feeling this way with Eragon also distracting_? the inner voice asked.

She ignored it. Arya did not want to love again and was not prepared to love again after the death of Faolin, whom she loved dearly_. No, I cannot and do not love Eragon, no matter how I feel about him. That settles the issue_.

The inner voice was about to reply when Arya heard a bang in the distance. She listened intently. The sound seemed to come from a thousand yards away or so_. I need to investigate_. She sprinted to the direction of the sound.

The sound came from deeper into the forest. She ran gracefully, bushes tearing at her legs and branches swinging at her head. And suddenly, the forest disappeared. She gasped as she came into a clearing fifty yards in diameter. In the center of the clearing lay a emerald green object. Arya stared at the object, heart beating furiously. Could it be a trap? Or was it what she thought it was? She dashed towards the object, and gasped. A dragon egg! It was an actual dragon egg! Bending down, she picked it up, and studied it.

It was a beautiful stone, emerald green, with veins of darker green running down it. She tapped it. It was hollow, just like a dragon egg. Arya felt a fierce rush of joy, one that made her almost giddy. A real dragon egg! The egg shook. She dropped it, suprised. Was it hatching? Eragon's egg had taken weeks to hatch! Would it actually hatch for her?

A crack appeared in the egg. Arya watched it, amazed. Another crack. And another. Cracks now covered the previously flawless surface of the egg. The egg split open, and out came a dragon, a squeak announcing its entrance into the world. She gasped as the dragon leaned forward. Its snout tickled her palm, and she felt an intense pain in her hand. She tried to tear her hand away, but couldn't. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the dragon pulled its snout away. The surface of her skin rippled, and, as she watched, transfixed, as silver spread across her palm. She had just been marked with the gedwey ignasia.


	4. Chapter 4

Vanilor

For a minute, Arya started at the dragon sitting in her hand, and the green dragon stared back. Then it squeaked, bringing her to her senses. "I'm sorry," she told it gently. "I didn't feed you yet." She knew the dragon would eat meat. She would obviously have to get meat for it. She reached out with her mind, and located a rabbit. Whispering a word of death, she killed it. Anguish filled her as she thought of the dead rabbit, but that did not matter. She needed to feed her dragon.

She fetched the rabbit, skinned it, and gutted it, then placed it on the ground in front of her green dragon. Smiling absentmindly as she watched the dragon tear up the rabbit and eat it, she thought, _What should I name him? _For the dragon was obviously male. She ran over a list of dragon names in her mind, searching for one she liked.

The dragon belched as it ate its fill. It started humming a deep, low hum of contentment. Arya cut up the rest of the meat and saved it for later. The dragon would want to eat more, she knew_. Are you Vanilor_? she asked, reaching out to the dragon.

The dragon stared at Arya with its emerald green eyes. At first, it gave no indication that it understood. Then, slowly it nodded in agreement.

Arya gently picked up Vanilor and held him close. She looked up at the sky, startled by how much time had passed. The sun was now deep down the horizon, almost sunset. She would have to hurry if she were to reach the elfs' outpost on time. Where would she keep the dragon? As if the dragon read her thoughts, it jumped and settled in her raven hair with a squeak of delight.

"Hold on tight," she whispered. Then she ran at a near sprint to the north. Her thoughts were focused on the dragon_. My dragon._

It was sunset by the time Arya had arrived at the elves' fortress. Although the fortress had been commonly used during the time of the Riders, it had been abandoned after the fall. Now, the elves were working to restore the place. As of yet, only five elves inhabited the building, although these elves would soon be joined by some soldiers from the Varden.

The elves had been shocked and overjoyed at the sight of the dragon, and had pestered Arya with many questions. Where did you find him? What is his name? Who do you think sent the egg?

Arya now sat at a wooden dining table, telling her story. "Today afternoon, I was running when I heard a bang and saw a flash of red light. I ran over to investigate, and instead stumbled upon a clearing - probably opened by the magic. In the middle of the clearing was Vanilor's egg. I picked the egg up; he hatched. If I had more details of the story, I would tell them, but I myself do not know why the egg was sent, who sent the egg, and who the egg was meant to be sent to."

A dark haired male elf nodded. "It is particularly disturbing that the egg was sent within such close proximity of us. After all, wasn't this location supposed to be kept secret? We have kept this location secret from most of our people, too."

A brown haired, green eyed elf sitting besides him nodded. "Aye. It is most strange. I believe that until we figure this out, this place might be too dangerous to use. If the mysterious sender knew where to find us, why wouldn't Galbatorix? If the sender was a Varden member or a elf, one who knew of this castle wouldn't they send a note to us?"

"It may be possible that this was an accident," one elf said.

"Possible, but highly unlikely," said another.

"At any rate, I believe that you should keep Vanilor hidden until he is big enough to fend for himself, Arya. We do not want to get our hopes up, only to get them crushed by conspirators trying to kill your dragon," said the dark hair elf.

Arya nodded. "I agree. The circumstances are too queer to risk anything. You five shall accompany me into the Du Weldenvarden."

They went on to discuss how a new Rider would affect the events in Alagaesia, their chances of beating Galbatorix and Murtagh, and other similiar topics. Their discussion carried on late into the night.

When Eragon saw the sparring field, he inwardly groaned. Vanir and two unfamiliar elves were standing, waiting, Eragon knew, for him. _Three elves! Vanir himself is quite a handful. Two elves were almost impossible. And now three! Does Oromis plan to kill me before battle even takes place?_

_Relax, little one. It is a rare enough feat to defeat two elves, which you did. You will always be respected for that._

Eragon snorted. Oromis had been pushing Eragon hard for the past three weeks since he had returned, making Eragon do advanced magic that even the most experienced magicians did not attempt, pushing Eragon's endurance and strength to the limit. However, Eragon had to grudgingly admit that little by little, he was learning, growing, and improving more. He was now as athletic, flexible, balanced, and strong as the fittest elf warrior, something that Eragon had not been even after his transformation at the Agaeti Blodhren. Pushing those thoughts out of his mind, Eragon stepped onto the field.

They greeted each other, then drew their swords and guarded them.

"Today, Shadeslayer, you will be facing three elves," Vanir told Eragon. "Are you ready?"

"Yes." Eragon steeled himself for what was going to come next. If he were to be beaten badly, he might as well do so with a fight.

With a cry, Vanir leaped at Eragon, blade flashing. He swung his blade at Eragon's neck. Eragon sidestepped to his right as he noticed a second elf had charged him from the left. The two blades flew past him, a hair's width from his skin. Now the third elf charged at Eragon. Eragon raised his sword, blocking the blow, then jumped back as Vanir and a elf sliced at him.

_This is impossible! _thought Eragon as he fended off the elves' blows. _If there is an opening, I can't capitalize, because another elf will get me! _Indeed, the elves had forced Eragon to the defensive, pushing him to the back of the field.

An elf lunged at Eragon. With lightning fast reflexes, Eragon sidestepped the blow, and then, finally, saw an opening in the elves' defenses. The elf had lunged to far, and would be easily disarmed by a flick of the blade. But Eragon knew that such an action would leave him vulnerable to attack by the other elves. In a split second decision, Eragon backflipped away from the elves placing a perfectly aimed kick on the sword. The sword flew out of its master's hands, high into the air. As he descended, Eragon used his sword to ward of the elves' blows, showing the full extent of his flexibility. He caught the elf's sword in his free hand, and, in a rapid motion, placed his blade at the disarmed elf's neck. "Dead," he said. The other elf saw an opening. He thought he saw an opening. He lunged towards Eragon, but Eragon had expected the attack and sidestepped the elf. Once again, he touched his blade to the elf's neck. "Dead." Now Vanir was the last elf left. Eragon grinned, knowing he could defeat Vanir any time.

The wind shifted, blowing Eragon's way. Eragon's heightened sense of smell caught many scents on the wind. He smelled leather boots, leather clothes. He smelled metal. The last scent, a scent of crushed pine needles, made him stop. There was only one two-legger he knew which carried that particular smell. Arya.

A sudden desire to turn around hit Eragon, but Saphira quelled it by saying, _Focus._

_Of course, Saphira._

Determined to defeat Vanir as quickly as possible, concious of Arya's eyes on him, Eragon began a complex, flowing attack on Vanir's defenses. After five minutes of dueling, Eragon quickly disarmed Vanir and brought his sword to his head. "Dead."

Someone applauded.

Eragon whipped his head around. Arya stood, clapping. She looked exactly as Eragon's mental image depicted her. Possessing a seemingly flawless beauty and grace, Arya never ceased to make Eragon marvel at her appearance. However, this time, there was a difference Eragon could not locate, but one his instincts told were there.

After they had greeted each other, Arya walked forward. "That was amazing swordsmanship, Shadeslayer!" she asked.

"Thank you, Arya Svit-Kona."

_Eragon! _

_What? _Eragon snapped at Saphira, irritated.

_I smell prescence here - a prescence of someone who has interacted with a dragon. It's coming from Arya somewhere._

_A dragon_? Eragon asked, looking up.

_Yes, a dragon. Arya has contacted us, and tells us she wants to talk to us in private after she greets the other elves._

An absurd thought entered Eragon's mind_. Do you think she's a rider?_

_Perhaps_, Saphira mused_. At any rate, we shall find out soon. _

After Arya had finished greeting the other elves, she motioned Eragon to follow her. He did so without a word. Arya led them deep into the forest, where there would be no chance of being overheard.

In a clearing, Arya stopped and turned around. Suddenly, Eragon noticed something different about her. She was wearing gloves. Thick, leather gloves, like Eragon had worn to hid his silver mark. Eragon had never seen Arya wear gloves before. A sudden wave of excitement seized Eragon. His hand darted out and grabbed Arya's. He stripped away the leather glove, revealing what he had hoped for - the gedwey ignasia.

A curious sensation entered Arya as she contacted Eragon.

Eragon stood there, shocked, still holding her glove in his hands. _Arya, a rider! _His shock was gradually replaced by joy, as he realized that there would be a new rider assisting in the war against Galbatorix. Plus, it made him closer to Arya - perhaps easing the barriers between Eragon and Arya, barriers that previously would never have allowed Arya to love Eragon and vice versa. Suddenly, he felt an urge to embrace Arya, to show her his passion for her, passion that he had kept hidden ever since the Agaeti Blodhren. _Stop that! _he told himself. _She does not love you. Do not pursue her. _

Eragon opened his mouth. "Arya, why didn't you tell me earlier that you are-"

Arya put her hand over his mouth. "Shut up!" she hissed. "Not that loud!" Slowly she removed her hand.

"Sorry," Eragon said softly, confused. "Are you keeping this a secret?"

"Had you not been so impatient, I would have told you." She held out a hand. Eragon put her glove inside. "And, yes, I am keeping this a secret. You must swear in the ancient language to tell no one of this without my permission. You too, Saphira."

Eragon and Saphira obliged. "Why are you keeping this a secret?"

"Because, my dragon is young, and not able to fend for himself. If news of this were to spread, our lives could be endangered."

Eragon nodded. "Can I see your dragon? You must tell me how you got that egg."

"I'll explain to you on the way to Oromis's house," Arya replied. "My dragon's name is Vanilor. He is with Oromis."

"You're taking lessons with Oromis?" Eragon asked, heart pounding. He remembered the last time she had watched his lesson with Oromis. That lesson had been a disaster, ending up with Eragon showing his feelings for Arya.

Arya raised an eyebrow. "Surely a dragon rider has to be educated?"

"Of course. Congragulations, Arya," Eragon said.

_Congragulations, Shurtugal_, Saphira said, joy in her voice_. You will make an excellent rider, I'm sure of it. Thank you for hatching another egg. I have longed to be with more of my kin._

"Let us leave now. I'm already late for lessons, as is." Eragon climbed onto Saphira's back, then extended his hand to help Arya up. Arya ignored it and climbed up by herself. Eragon blushed, hoping Arya would not notice. He had forgotten that she was an elf, not a human, and possessed the physical capabilities of an elf.

Suddenly, Saphira took off beneath him, jerking up at a steep angle. Eragon yelped in surprise, as inertia carried him back. He felt Arya's arms around his waist as she held on to maintain balance.

_What was that for? _Eragon asked.

_Why, is it a crime to express your joy? _asked Saphira as she let out a happy bugle.

"Mental dragon," Eragon muttered.

Saphira righted herself, then flew steadily towards their masters' house. Arya's released her hold on Eragon's waist.

"I was outside of the Du Weldenvarden when I found Saphira's egg," Arya said in her musical voice. Eragon turned his head to face Arya. "I was running when I heard a bang and I saw a flash of red light. I ran to the egg, picked it up, and it hatched instantly. That's all there is to my story."

"But who sent the egg?" asked Eragon, confused.

"I don't know."

Eragon nodded. "Nothing exciting about the story? That's all?"

Arya gazed at him, emerald green eyes boring into his. Uncomfortable, Eragon looked away. "We are having enough trouble with Galbatorix as is. When something comes easily to us like Vanilor's egg, we should rejoice the lack of extra complications."

"Of course. However, it is not always that our successes come so easily as this one."

When they arrived at Oromis's house, they saw Oromis and Glaedr standing outside with a small green dragon, two feet tall. The green dragon's scales exactly matched the color of Arya's eyes, Eragon noticed.

"His scales look majestic," Eragon said without thinking. "They match the color of your eyes."

Saphira winced_. Eragon.... _she warned.

_Relax, Saphira. I won't say more._

Time for further comment was lost as Saphira descended. Eragon eagerly jumped off, heart pounding. A newly hatched dragon! He sensed similiar excitement in Saphira.

After greetings had been exchanged, Arya stepped forward and said, "Eragon, Saphira, I'd like to introduce you to Vanilor."

Vanilor jumped playfully towards Saphira and looked up at her with bright, intelligent eyes_. Well met, little one_, Saphira told Vanilor.

_Well met, Vanilor_, Eragon said.

_Well met, Eragon Shadeslayer, Saphira Bjartskular._

"Arya, you will, Vanilor, and Saphira will be working with Glaedr today. It is the tradition for the dragons to teach new Riders about our customs and our ways. Although you are familiar with them, Arya, it will help to review them again."

"Yes, ebrithil," Arya said. Saphira, Glaedr, and Vanilor flew off, Arya riding on Glaedr's back.

"Come inside, Eragon," Oromis said.

Once they were comfortably seated, Oromis asked, "What do you think about this?"

"What do you mean, Master?" Eragon asked.

"How do you feel about a new rider?"

Eragon smiled. "It's wonderful. We're not alone. Fortune has smiled upon us, a new Rider will help the our cause a lot. Even better, the Rider is a elf, so we will not be faced with the limitations of a human rider. And Saphira might finally find a fit mate in Vanilor."

Oromis nodded. "It is good that you understand this. From now on you will be taking lessons with Arya. How do you feel about this?"

Eragon stiffened. "I will not pursue her, if that is what you ask. Not unless she expresses...." He broke off.

"Good," Oromis replied. "You must not become distracted. It is good that you understand that."

They talked for a while about how a new rider would affect the Varden, how a rider would help their cause, and their chances of beating Galbatorix. Then Eragon asked,"Who do you think sent the egg?"

Oromis shrugged. "It could be anyone, anyone at all. However, we can narrow down the list further to who probably sent the egg. First of all, the sender has to be a magician. That rules out most of the people in Alagaesia. Second of all, the sender would have to be against Galbatorix, taking an active place in the war. However, this makes a new question spring up. If the sender is closely affiliated with the Varden, elves, dwarves, or Surda, close enough so that they know the him or her personally, why wouldn't the sender bother to leave a note? Obviously, the sender would not want any publicity.

"Thus, we could seperate the possible senders into several groups. The first is the group of those under Galbatorix. If the egg were to fall into the wrong hands, they obviously would not want Galbatorix to know, so they would not write a note. It could be a magician who suddenly realized that he or she did not believe in Galbatorix's plans. However, the sender being in the first group is unlikely because all of Galbatorix's servants swear loyalty to him. The second group is the group of humans accidentally stumbling upon an egg. However, this is near impossible - whoever sent the egg would have to be a magician, and know where the elf outpost is. The third group is spies on our side. This group is the most likely group, because a spy would not send a note and risk getting his or her position revealed, and because a spy would not be bound by the oaths that Galbatorix's servants would be. The fourth group would be a elf, dwarf, or Surdan who for some reason would decide to not write a note. However, this group is also very unlikely, because it would be more rational for the sender to give the egg to his or her leader instead of sending it all the way to the edge of the Du Weldenvarden."

A sudden thought occurred to Eragon. "Arya said she saw a flash of red light. It could be Murtagh! He falls under the first group, and he might have somehow freed himself."

Oromis replied calmly, "It could be anyone. Just because Murtagh's magic is red doesn't mean it is him."

Eragon nodded. "It was just a thought." They sat in silence for a few minutes.

Oromis broke the silence by saying, "How did you fare today in sparring?"

Eragon explained how he had beaten two of the three elves, explaining his manuevers and tactics.

Oromis nodded after he had heard Eragon's story. "Good. From what I heard, you were able to react simultaneously to all three of the elves fighting you, and you were able to adjust your style so as to be able to fight all three of them. That is a very impressive feat."

"Thank you, Master."

"You are now ready to move on to the next step in reacting to multiple opponents. Do you think that you could apply the same concept to a magical duel?"

"What do you mean, ebrithil?"

"If you faced two or three elves in a duel, and they attacked you with their spells, would you be able to devise a spell so as to counteract all three of their spells?"

Eragon frowned. "I don't know. While in swordsmanship, you can read your opponent's body movement and react accordingly, you can't do that in a duel. There are just too many possiblities."

Oromis smiled. "You will be trained to try to predict all of those possibilities - analyze them and react accordingly, all in a split second. Tomorrow, after your duel with swords, Vanir and another elf will duel you with magic for half an hour. You and Saphira will then come to my lessons."

"That's dangerous!" Eragon protested. "We'll kill each other."

"I never said that you were dueling to hurt each other. You will be dueling in different ways. For example, Vanir and the other elf will try to light a fire or do some other task. You will try to stop both of their spells at once. You will also be practicing scaled down magical duels. For example, the elves will try to bind you, and you will try to bind them, or the elves will try to hit you with harmless objects using magic, and you must retaliate. Do not worry, Eragon. I do not expect you to excel immediately."

Eragon groaned. "What of Arya? Will she also be doing this?"

Oromis nodded. "Being an ambassador, Arya has already been trained in ways such as this. She is the only other swordsman besides you, who has defeated three elves at once. But yes, although she has little to improve on, she will still spar with and practice magic the same time as you do. But enough of this topic. Today will shall be talking about poisons which affect the mind."

Eragon listened to Oromis talk about poisons designed escpecially to tamper with people's brains, and how to stop them. "Poisons which affect the body kill a person by directly attacking the body parts. However, poisons which affect the mind kill the body parts by killing the part of the mind - not the physical brain, but the mental mind - which controls the body parts. These poisons are traceless, and are mainly used in assassinations. However, they are relatively easy to stop, because they do not require an antidote. All a person has to do is to entered the poisoned person's mind, spin their conciousness around the poison and through the poison, and then jerk, causing the poison to disintegrate. You will soon practice stopping these poisons, because spy reports say that galbatorix is starting to use these poisons. It might sound confusing right now, but it will be explained in greater depth soon."

For the rest of the day, Oromis lectured Eragon about the different types of these poisons, and the most effective methods to stop each type. At the end of the day, when the dragons and Arya had come back, Oromis had given Eragon scrolls to read about the poisons. He also gave Eragon a map of the brain, which, he said, was the same for all two leggers, so as to better understand how the mind works.

Eragon and Arya at last departed (Vanilor stayed with Oromis and Glaedr) on Saphira. As they landed at Eragon's tree house and Arya turned to leave, Eragon called out, "Wait!"

Arya turned. She looked at him, a strange expression in her eye. It was a look Eragon had never seen on her face before. "What?" she asked.

"I just want to know how you feel about being a rider."

Arya frowned. "Why?"

Eragon shrugged. He wanted to learn more about Arya, who had always been an enigma to him - he knew almost nothing of her personal life, emotions, and view of the world. But he didn't want to explain all of that to Arya. "Never mind. Forget that I asked."

Arya nodded, then said softly, "Good night, Eragon, Saphira."

"Good night to you to, Arya."

_Good night, Arya._

Eragon sparred with the three elves again the next day. He defeated all three of them without any distractions. After sparring, Eragon walked up to Vanir and said, "My Master said that I was to practice magic with you and another elf."

Vanir nodded. "We shall practice here."

Another elf walked to the sparring field and greeted Eragon. He introduced himself as Lifay.

For the next thirty minutes, Eragon dueled with the elves. As Oromis had said, Eragon had first tried to stop them from lighting a fire while they attacked his mind and he attacked theirs. He had never succeeded. The elves stopped after lighting a fire for the twentieth time, while Saphira watched with amusement.

_Oromis is definitely trying to kill me,_ an exhausted Eragon told Saphira as he and Arya climbed onto her back.

_You are becoming more powerful, you know. _Saphira turned around and winked. Then she suddenly did a backwards loop, surprising both Eragon and Arya. Arya held on to Eragon's waist during the loop. Eragon felt the familiar tingling sensation in his stomach whenever Arya was near him.

This time, in their lessons with Oromis, Arya and Eragon stayed with Oromis while the dragons flew off. They sat inside his cottage. Oromis quizzed Eragon and Arya (for although she didn't take the lesson, she was expected to know) about the poisons of the mind, to which they answered perfectly, pleasing Oromis.

Finally, Oromis said, "Today, both of you are to be working on magic that you have never been made to do before, but you know how to perform. Let us go outside first."

After the three stood outside, Oromis continued, "You will be working on performing spells without the Ancient Language."

Arya frowned. Looking at her, Eragon felt the same way. _Didn't Oromis say before that such spells are too dangerous to perform? _None of them voiced their opinions out loud.

"Ah, I see a thought biting at both of your lips," Oromis said. "You were advised, when first learning magic, that performing magic without words is too dangerous. However, I believe that both of you are advanced enough in magic to handle such spells. The only reason why I'm even teaching you to do these spells is because you are Riders. You share bonds with dragons, who perform magic without ever saying the Ancient Language. Your bonds with dragons thus give you, as Riders, more control over magic also. There are many uses to performing this type of magic - duels, where you don't want the opponents to gain an advantage by knowing what spell you performed, and other such conditions. However, becoming adept at this also makes you become more adept at controlling magic in general, and performing magic more efficiently. You will perform for me a spell without uttering a word. Make sure that it is not a complicated spell, however; it would do you no good to kill yourselves because you lost control. Eragon, you first."

Eragon thought of what spell he would perform, concious of Arya's gaze on him. Then an idea came to mind _- Brisingr_. Eragon felt a inexplicable attraction to that word in the Ancient Language - he had performed his first spell with that word, and shouted that word when he killed the Shade Durza. Focusing on the ground in front of him, he thought of fire, putting his magical power into it.

The ground in front of him burst into flames. Oromis put out the fire, then looked at Eragon. "A good start." He turned to Arya. "Your turn."

Arya frowned, concentration shown on her face. Eragon looked at her. He felt his love for her burn as he took in her beauty - her flawless skin, her perfectly sculpted face, her raven black hair, and her emerald eyes.

A gust of wind blew towards them, lasting for three seconds.

"You summoned that wind, I presume?" Oromis asked, looking at Arya.

"Yes, orom- ebrithil."

Oromis nodded. "An odd choice of a spell, but it works, nonetheless."

They spent the rest of the day performing other similiar spells. Oromis asked them to toss a ball of water around using only magic, to raise stones, and other tasks that Eragon did with ease. Eragon was pleased that he was doing as well as Arya was at magic - it showed how much he had improved as a magician.

When Eragon finally went to bed, he fell asleep instantly - exhausted but pleased by the day's work.

Three weeks passed while Eragon and Arya continued to train together. During those three weeks, Eragon and Arya had become closer friends than they had ever been. Arya hatching Vanilor had given them both something in common, something to relate to one another with. After his lessons, he talked extensively with Arya about his life, while she talked about hers. Eragon always enjoyed talking with Arya, and leapt at the opportunity to do so. Meanwhile, Saphira started spending more and more time talking to Vanilor. When Eragon, happy that Saphira had finally found a dragon of her age to talk to, asked Saphira about her feelings for Vanilor, she ensured him that she only viewed Vanilor as a friend, nothing more.

Meanwhile, Eragon's and Arya's lessons progressed quickly. They had begun practicing healing people affected by mind poisons. Oromis would poison either Eragon or Arya with a poison that made the poisoned fall asleep. Eragon and Arya had both done very well in healing. Also, the two were mastering doing magic without the ancient language - both were now so adept at it that only the most complex of spells escaped their grasp. Eragon noticed that his efficiency in magic had greatly increased ever since he had started nonverbal spells; he required a lot less energy to do spells now, and his concentration was better. However, Eragon still struggled in dueling the two elves at once, only sometimes succeeding. Oromis had comforted Eragon, saying, "Relax, Eragon. No one in history, except the most powerful of Riders, has been able to defeat two elves in a magical duel simultaneously. I do not expect you to be able to do so."

Vanilor continued to grow at a fast rate. When he grew taller than Arya, only then did Arya decide to inform the public about this. After Eragon woke up, he dressed his best in preparation for the party celebrating the new dragon rider.

After Eragon was finally pleased with his appearance, he exited his house and flew with Saphira to the Menoa Tree, where a throng of elves was already waiting. Spotting Oromis and Glaedr, Eragon and Saphira walked over to their masters and greeted them. "Where's Arya and Vanilor?"

_They will only show themselves after they are introduced. Such is the custom, _Glaedr responded.

After five minutes, Queen Izlandazi walked onto a raised podium, Arya at her side, and addressed the crowd of excited elves assembled below. Eragon smiled at Arya; Arya smiled back.

"Greetings! Today, we shall officially announce joyous news of monumentous proportion!

"It has been a little more than a century from the fall of the Riders, and Galbatorix's ascension to the throne, and for the majority of the century, our cause has had little hope. Very little hope indeed. Until, a year ago, Eragon and Saphira presented themselves to us as Rider and Dragon! Although their power was small compared to the power of Galbatorix, they were a hope. And they have had a great impact on our cause.

"But yet, we find ourselves still overwhelmed by the power of the evil king Galbatorix, and his servants, the Rider Murtagh and his dragon. But, within a year of Eragon and Saphira, we have a new cause to rejoice - for yet another Rider shall walk the lands of Alagaesia!"

The elves cheered and clapped, Eragon enthusiastically joining in. Suddenly, with a cry, an elf pointed towards the sky. Heads turned up. Flying toward the assembled crowd was a majestic green dragon.

The assembled elves cheered even louder, enthusiastic cries echoing throughout the forest.

The dragon landed in the middle of the clearing. Arya dismounted to stand by her dragon.

Izlandazi held up a hand. The crowd went silent. "May I present to you, new rider and dragon, Arya Drottingnu and Vanilor Bjartskular!" Islandazi announced.

The crowd erupted into cheers.

There was a big celebration that day, with a magnificent feast and games. Eragon was content to sit back and watch the festivites, thinking about Arya. His mind constantly strayed to her; today was no exception. He thought of her intoxicating scent of crushed pine needles, her flawless beauty, and the strength which seemed to radiate from her. His heart beat faster, and Eragon felt that his heart would burst from all his love for her. Whenever Arya walked by, Eragon would blush and turn red, hoping she didn't know what he was feeling.

After hours of celebrating, Izlandazi once again went to the podium and announced that there would be a dance. Eragon instantly thought of Arya. _Maybe I can dance with her..._ he mused.

Saphira snorted. _You're lovesick._

_I am. _

_Eragon, just remember - don't push her too far._

_I won't._

Eragon scanned the crowd for Arya. When he spotted her, he walked over to her. Arya turned to look at him. Suddenly, Eragon questioned the wisdom of what he was about to do. What would happen if Arya declined dancing with him? Eragon panicked. What if he embarrassed himself again? He suddenly realized that he had gone too far. Arya was walking up to him. What would he say to her?

"What is it, Eragon?" she asked.

Eragon took a deep breath, weighing his options. He could pretend that he was looking for someone else. Or he could pretend that he was going to ask Arya about something else. That was what he would do, he decided. But, suddenly, of its own accord, his mouth opened and blurted out, "Wouldyouliketodancewithme?" All that came out was an incoherent jumble of words.

Arya stared at him, her green eyes piercing his brown ones. Obviously, she had managed to decipher his message. Suddenly, a new emotion hit Arya, one that she thought she would never feel again. _He's so handsome, _she absentmindedly thought. All of a sudden, she felt a strange longing, a strange pull towards Eragon. Despite herself, she took a step closer, heart beating quickly. Why did she feel like this? Was it Eragon? _No, it can't be. My feelings for him are only that of a friend's. _

Vanilor snorted. He had heard her thoughts. _Feelings for him or not, he's still waiting for an answer. _

Arya snapped out of her confused state. Should she accept, or should she decline?

Meanwhile, Eragon stood there, terrified. He had almost surely angered her again. Fifteen seconds passed without an answer as her gaze pierced his, a strange glint in her eye. Would she accept? Impossible. Would she decline? More likely. Would she not even reply? He saw Arya took a step closer. His heart beat faster as he quelled his urge to pull her into an embrace. Arya would not like that.

Finally, after forty - five seconds of tense silence, Arya slowly nodded. _What am I agreeing to? _she thought, suddenly panicking. It'll only make him pursue me more! Her concious mind, her duty - centered mind, told her to reject, but, her instincts drove her to say, "Yes."


	5. Chapter 5

Eragon stood in shock. He had tempted fate, and won; instead of harshly rebuking him, Arya had agreed to dance with him!

Arya's musical voice brought Eragon out of his bewildered state. "I thought you were going to dance with me," she said in an amused tone.

"Of course," Eragon mumbled, turning red. Why did he always have to fall apart in front of Arya?

"Come." Arya pulled him towards the clearing where the elves were already dancing to music. Her skin tingled as she touched him. Could she actually be feeling something for Eragon? What had made her accept? Confused inwardly, Arya maintained her composure on the outside. It was one thing she learned as a diplomat. She glanced at Eragon. She could read his emotions easily; he was horrible at hiding them.

_What is his emotion? A mere infatuation with me, or something much, much more?_

Arya shook off the thought.

Once they had reached a good spot to dance, Eragon nervously confessed, "I only know humans' dances."

Arya nodded. "Humans dance the same dances as elves do."

With trembling fingers, Eragon placed his hand on Arya's waist and held Arya's other hand. Arya placed a hand on Eragon's shoulder, feeling a strange tingling sensation at where his strong yet gentle hand held her waist. It was the closest Eragon and Arya had ever been to each other.

The couple danced, each of them occupied in their own minds.

The next day, Eragon woke in high spirits. He sat barechested on his bed, thinking, _I danced with Arya, and didn't get my head lopped off by a harsh rebuke!_

_No wonder why you're in such a fine mood today_, Saphira groggily replied_. If you are as reckless in battle as you are with Arya, you'll get your head lopped off. Remember, we're leaving for the Varden today._

Eragon instantly sobered. He had forgotten completely about that. Eragon and Arya would be making a short, two day stay at the Varden. Arya needed to go because, as a new dragon rider, it was her duty to Nasuada see her and Vanilor. Eragon would be accompanying them because Vanilor could not carry a person yet, and Arya needed a dragon to fly on. They would both be flying on Saphira. Also, as Nasuada's vassal, he was honor-bound to accompany Arya and Vanilor and introduce them to Nasuada.

Someone knocked on Eragon's door.

"Enter."

The door opened and Arya stepped in, wearing black leather clothes and a headband. "Get dressed, Eragon, and meet me outside. Are you packed?" she said briefly.

Eragon looked down at his bare, muscular chest and his pajamas_. _"Yes, I packed already. I'll go dress."

Eragon got up and moved into the next room to dress.

As Arya watched Eragon go, again, the confusing mix of emotions entered her. She noticed his perfectly sculpted muscles - muscles that most male elves did not have. He suddenly struck her as extremely handsome; Arya felt as if her eyes had been opened wide to Eragon, that she was seeing him in a different light than she had before. Disturbed by her own thoughts, Arya walked out of the house.

Eragon sat by the campfire staring at the shadows that flickered around the fire, thinking. Beside him, Arya sat silently, half a frown on her face, seemingly perturbed by her own thoughts. Sitting next to Arya, through his heightened senses, Eragon could smell her intoxicating scent of crushed pine needles, see every single detail of her perfectly sculpted face, and hear her gentle, slow breathing. This night, Eragon was painfully aware of the depths of his feelings for her. Arya thought Eragon's feelings were only a childish infatuation; Eragon new his feelings were much, much more.

Eragon's love for Arya was more than just an infatuation; it was almost an obsession. His blood raced as he thought of her, his heart pulsed faster, and his breath quickened. _So close, yet so far away_. Did Arya know how much torment she inflicted on Eragon right now, by merely sitting here? Eragon felt as if his heart would burst from his depth of emotions for her and the fact that he could do nothing about them. Indeed, Eragon's heart was beating painfully fast now, hurting from the strain of love. At times like these, when Eragon thought of Arya, he suddenly wished he had never loved her at all - for it was love that was tormenting him - love and frustration. He glanced at her. Arya's raven black hair perfectly contrasted her pale skin; he sat, transfixed, gazing at her glowing, flawless skin. She was the epitome of beauty, a living goddess. And, although Eragon worshipped her, he felt much more emotions about her, emotions that now rushed to Eragon, threatening to engulf him in a sea of despair.

He felt frustration, anger, and despair at Arya's repeated rejections of Eragon's advances, and yet, Eragon's love for her overshadowed any other feelings for Arya. It blazed in him like a fire, burning brightly even after Arya's attempts to douse it by rejecting him. Was the fire giving him warmth? Or was it burning him? What type of fire was it?

Eragon trembled as another wave of love-caused agony washed over him. _Arya won't even talk to me now. _It was true. It had been two days since they had left Ellesmera, and Arya had been extremely quite for those two days, barely talking to Eragon at all. Her reticence only hurt Eragon even more. Although he knew something troubled Arya, Eragon could not pinpoint what it was.

Suddenly, Eragon knew he had to say something, anything, lest he drown in his own feelings. "Arya...." It was a word full of passion and ardor.

"Arya... What is troubling you? You have said barely a word in these past two days. Is something amiss?" Eragon let all his concern for her show.

Arya gave no indication that she heard, and she continued to stare into the flames as if searching for an answer to an elusive question only she, and perhaps Vanilor, knew. Or was Arya this stone cold to Vanilor, also? Did she confide her innermost thoughts to Vanilor, as she refused to do for everyone else?

_Of course she does! What are dragon and Rider for?_

Five minutes passed in unbearable silence. Eragon finally spoke, although he ran the risk of greatly upsetting Arya. "Arya, I know you well enough to know when you are troubled or unhappy. Tell me, what is it that troubles you, so that I might be able to help you?"

Arya still didn't look at Eragon or make any indication that she had heard.

Eragon cursed mentally. _What's wrong with her?_

"At least answer me, Arya."

Arya stiffened beside Eragon. "Do you know what I am feeling right now?" she asked without looking at Eragon.

Her tone frightened Eragon. He had never heard her speak that way. "No."

"Good, because my feelings are my own, Eragon. They are not to be read like an open scroll," she said harshly. Then she got up and stalked away.

Eragon felt Vanilor's prescence touch his mind. _She is troubled, Eragon. As her dragon, I apologize for any harsh remarks that she made. However, if you must know, Arya is confused about something, and she is putting up a cold, mean mask of emotions to try reject those confused feelings._

_I'm sorry, _Eragon said, _for making her react this way. However, I did not know that this would be how she would react_. He hesitated, then asked_, What is Arya confused about?_

_I am not the one to tell you. It would be a violation of Arya's privacy and trust. You must ask Arya if you really want to know, but I suggest you don't, because she'll only get more agitated._

_Should I apologize to Arya?_

_No, there is no need, Eragon. I will talk to her myself. After all, it is not your fault. When she is ready to talk to you again, she will. _

_Thank you, Vanilor._

The next morning, Arya approached Eragon, and hesitantly said, "Eragon, I am sorry for my behavior last night."

Eragon nodded. "It's okay, Arya. Let us put that behind us."

"Aye. Let us put that behind us."

Eragon, Arya, Saphira, Vanilor, Nasuada, and Orik walked to Nasuada's study as the dwarves and humans gazed at them with joyous, awed expressions. This time, though, their attentions were not directed at Eragon, but rather, Arya and Vanilor, the new Riders. They were happy because of the hope Arya and Vanilor brought - hope of finally defeating Galbatorix and thus ensuring a better, more peaceful life for themselves and their family.

As they walked between the rows of onlookers, Eragon wondered what he would feel had he been in their place_. If I were one of them, what would I be fighting for_? An image of burnt Carvahall entered his mind, and Eragon felt a surge of rage against the empire_. Galbatorix and Shruikan have a lot to answer for._

_Aye, Galbatorix does. But Shruikan? What choice did he have, as a slave of Galbatorix_? Saphira replied.

_True. You're always right on these matters._

_That I am_, Saphira replied.

They stopped outside Nasuada's office, where armed guards stood. The guards, seeing Nasuada, bowed.

Once inside the office, Eragon warded the place from listeners. "We can talk safely now."

Nasuada nodded. "Sit, please." She beckoned at three chairs. Her guests sat.

"You must tell me everything that has happened, Eragon, Arya."

Arya and Vanilor spoke first. Arya told of her journey to Ellesmera, how she had found the egg near the outpost outside the elf city of, how Vanilor had hatched, how they had kept Vanilor hidden, and her lessons as a Rider.

Nasuada nodded, letting her joy show. "A Rider! A Rider! I must admit, when I was sent the message a week ago, I still doubted that there ever was a Rider, until, finally, I have seen you two in person, Arya and Vanilor. This is more than I ever dared hope for. Your prescence would be greatly beneficial to our cause."

"Aye, that it will. This will increase our morale, and hopefully convince more dwarves that helping the Varden is the right thing to do," Orik added. "Eragon, do you have anything to add on your story and about your training?"

Eragon and Saphira added a few additional details on their training, although Arya had already covered most of her main points.

Nasuada sat, silent for a while, seemingly thinking. Then she said, "Are your trainings complete enough so as to allow us to move to Surda, and start an open campaign?"

Eragon looked at Arya.

Arya said, "If you abandon the safety of Farthen Dur, there are many risks of attack by Murtagh and Thorn. I believe that you should not go yet, until Eragon and I are fully completed with our training and can finally commit to fighting with the Varden. Our masters have expressed that they want us to go back and stay a few more weeks, because there is much that they have not told us."

"What more do you need to learn?" Nasuada asked, trying to keep patient, even though she was frustrated with this inaction.

Arya looked at Eragon uncertainly.

_Should we tell? _Eragon asked Saphira.

_I cannot make that decision for you, _Saphira replied.

Eragon decided that he would tell. "As your vassal, Nasuada, I am honor-bound to tell you, even though I do not know much myself. It is only that my Masters have hinted that they know why Galbatorix is getting so powerful."

"I see. Who are your masters?" Nasuada asked.

"That we cannot say," Arya replied.

Nasuada nodded. "You are excused now."

"I suggest you stay a day or so to rest and recuperate. It would raise the Varden's morale if you two were to stay longer, and you are always welcome in Farthen Dur," Orik said.

"We can stay for the whole of tomorrow, perhaps," Arya said, "but then we must go."

"Aye. That is good enough. However, you must let the Varden see more of you four - so that their hopes shall rise."

"That we shall," said Eragon, Arya out loud simultaneously. Meanwhile, Saphira and Vanilor projected that sentence through their thoughts.

Nasuada nodded, pleased. "Then you are excused."

Eragon and Arya bowed and left the room.


	6. Chapter 6

Eragon practiced his sword moves, stabbing, lunging, slashing, and parrying thrusts from imaginary enemies. He had woken up very early in the morning, not needing much sleep, so as to practice his sword moves without anyone disturbing him. He sensed the prescence of Arya and Vanilor, but he forced himself to concentrate on his swordsmanship.

"You have improved much as a swordsman since I last saw you." Arya's musical voice rang out.

"That I have," said Eragon, turning around. "Would you like to spar with me?"

"If you wish," Arya replied.

They guarded the edge of their swords. The dragons watched, amused. It was Eragon who initiated the fight, bounding across the field. He slashed at Arya, who parried his thrust. Analyzing her every movement, Eragon realized, _She's better than Vanir, but still I can beat her. _He started a series of his most flowing, smooth slashes and lunges, gracefully moving from one form to the other. He slashed, leapt, and lunged, all the while pushing Arya back, although he was not able to gain an opening. They dueled like this for forty minutes, Eragon gradually battering down Arya's defenses. Finally, as Arya lunged at him, stabbing at what she thought was an opening, Eragon disarmed her with a lazy flick of his wrist. He brought his blade to her neck.

"Dead," he said, smiling. Then he unguarded his blade and sheathed it.

"Bravo!" a voice behind them shouted. The speaker clapped enthusiastically. "That was the most amazing swordsmanship I ever saw!"

Eragon jumped, startled. He and Arya had been so immersed in their duels that they had not noticed the prescence of another person.

_Who is it? _Eragon asked Saphira.

_See for yourself. _

Eragon turned around, and stared at the man in shock. This man was certainly familiar, he thought. It was the same old man whom Saphira and Eragon had seen flying to Ellesmera, the same man who had beckoned for them to land, but they had ignored, choosing to fly on!

The man smiled. "Greetings Eragon Shadeslayer and Saphira Bjartskular, Arya Drottingnu and Vanilor Bjartskular, I am Fiarta."

Eragon glanced at Arya. She was wearing a frown.

"How did you know of my title?" Arya demanded.

The smile vanished from Fiarta's face. "I know from the time you were born."

"Are you human?" asked Eragon, curiousity piqued.

"Yes, and no," Fiarta replied softly. He raised his right palm.

Eragon gasped. The palm had a silver mark on it, the gedwey ignasia.

_A Rider! _

Eragon could feel Saphira's shock seek through their mental link_. A Rider! Should we trust him?_

_I don't know. Let's listen to what he has to say._

Out loud, Eragon said, "You have much explaining to do."

"That I have," said Fiarta, moving to the ancient language. "I know that I am a Rider, but I have no dragon. I was born thirty years before the fall of the Riders, and got chosen as a Rider when I was ten. However, I do not know the identity of my dragon." Sorrow gripped Fiarta's face. His voice trembled as he continued, "My dragon and I got seperated when I was fifteen, I don't know how. I remember every other important detail of my life except for one of the most important - the identity of my dragon, how my dragon and I got seperated, and how my dragon looked like. I only remembered the color of the egg. It was black. I only remember that I woke up at the shore of Vreongard. I was very angry and confused, and I think I went mad for a while after my dragon was stolen from me. Now I realize how darn stupid I was! I could have gone to the Riders, but I was convinced that my dragon left Vreongard for the mainland, and I was trying to chase after whoever stole my dragon. I don't know why, but my mental link with my dragon was already vanished, by some spell, or because my dragon died, I know not. I still don't know if my dragon is alive!" He buried his face in his hands.

Pity welled up inside Eragon and Saphira, and they walked over to comfort Fiarta.

"Anyways," Fiarta continued, once he had recovered from his outburst, "I boarded a boat to the mainland, and wandered the land for ten years, a broken man, until I finally found the ruined castle in the middle of nowhere which I now call home."

Arya crossed her arms, angry glint in her eye. "How did you know the whereabouts of the Varden?" she demanded.

"During my childhood, I visited Farthen Dur on my dragon, though I don't even know who my dragon was. Later, I guessed that the Varden would be at Farthen Dur, and I was right."

Eragon suddenly became suspicious. "Does Nasuada know that you are here? Does she approve your prescence here? Does the Varden even know you are here?"

The old man nodded. "I came, pretending to be a recruit. The witch Angela searched my mind, though she has agreed tell no one that I am - was - a Rider. However, if you are wondering, I am trustworthy."

Saphira and Vanilor walked over to the man and sniffed him. Seeing them, the man said, "Examine me, Saphira, Vanilor, and see if I smell of a true Rider."

_My instincts tell me that he is all right_, Saphira said at last.

Eragon relaxed slightly. "Even if the other Varden don't have to know, Nasuada has the right to know."

"Fine. Tell her," Fiarta replied.

"May I ask you a question, though, Rider?" Arya asked, angry glint in her eye. "Why have you kept hidden for so long? Why have you not shown yourself sooner? You could have helped us greatly, you as a Rider, with a dragon that might even be alive!"

Fiarta recoiled, as if scared of Arya's anger. "True, I was a coward. I freely admit that. The reason why I did not join the Varden was because I wanted to devote my life to studying magic, I was still broken inside after I lost my dragon, and I never thought the Varden would succeed. I was a selfish coward, too. The thing that snapped me out of my foolish state was you, Eragon and Saphira. When I saw you two flying overhead, wonder and joy filled my heart. I was finally seeing a Rider and his dragon alive after all these years! You made me want to fight again; you rejuvanated my spirit. And now there are two Riders!"

_Will you fight for the Varden_? Vanilor inquired.

The man nodded. "I am fairly good among humans with a sword, and during my century or so of hiding, I have discovered secrets of magic, secrets which I can now show to you two. This secret I will give to you two, so as help you in your fight against Galbatorix. However, I do not even know if you are capable of such magic."

"Oh?" Arya asked, raising an eyebrow. "And how did you learn such magic?"

"The ruined castle that I called home was not built by the elves, but by the Grey Folk. The library in that house was entirely devoted to this secret. However, before I show you this secret, you must swear to me never to tell anyone else of this magic without my permission. And you must swear never to tell of my prescence to anyone else without my permission."

"How do we know that you are trustworthy?" Eragon asked. "You can be secretly working for the Empire, and we won't be able to tell anyone about it because we swore an oath to you."

"I swear that I mean the Varden and the elves and the dwarves no harm, so long as they do not directly harm me. I swear that I am indeed a former Rider, and that I do not know the identity of my dragon as of right now," Fiarta swore in the Ancient Language. "You may even examine my mind if you wish."

"That I shall," Arya said.

"Fine." The man grunted.

After ten minutes wait, where Arya, Vanilor and Fiarta stood as still as statues, Arya announced, "He is indeed trustworthy and everything he claims to be."

"Now you must swear your oaths," the man said.

"Wait." Eragon frowned. "Our teachers with the elves should know this, as should Nasuada. Can you make an exception saying that we can tell them, so long as they swear to keep their silence?"

The man raised an eyebrow. "Can the teacher in Ellesmera, be, perhaps, a Rider? If so, you can tell. As for telling Nasuada, fine. But no one else without my permission."

"What of Orik?" Eragon asked. "I am legally a dwarf, after all."

Fiarta shook his head. "No. While the Varden might remain constant in their cause, if the dwarves' leadership were to suddenly change, they could oppose us. I'd prefer not."

"As you wish," Eragon and Arya said in unison. Then, feeling as if his fate had just been sealed, Eragon swore the oath, as did Saphira, Vanilor, and Arya.

Fiarta first warded them from listeners. Then the old man nodded, a content look on his face. "You must understand, the magic I am about to show you cannot be performed by everyone. There are certain conditions that the spellcaster must meet before he or she can perform such an act of magic. Light a fire for me, Eragon." Fiarta handed Eragon a candle.

Without saying a word, as was habit now, Eragon lit a flame on the candle. Fiarta's eyes widened slightly. "You didn't use a word," he said, almost accusingly. "That was dangerous."

"I was trained to be able to perform such spells without saying a word."

"Perhaps...." Fiarta muttered. He told Arya and Eragon, "Link your minds with mine." After the four of them had entered his conciousness, Fiarta said_, Now watch the fire closely._

Eragon and Arya could feel Fiarta concentrating on the fire, entering its conciousness? Did fire even have a conciousness? And suddenly, Fiarta's energy levels rose, and Eragon saw the fire die out.

_You may leave my mind now, _Fiarta said.

"Did you see that!" Eragon cried, excited. "Did I just see you take the fire's energy into your own?" he asked Fiarta. The dragons hummed in awe.

"Aye, you did."

"Do it on a larger fire," Arya said. She sounded skeptical.

Fiarta nodded. "As you wish. Enter my mind again." Turning to Saphira, he asked, "Light a fire for me, please."

Saphira consented, and a roaring jet of blue flame billowed from her jaw.

Eragon felt Fiarta once again concentrate on the flame, and then energy, massive amounts of energy, poured into Fiarta.

Both Eragon and Arya pulled out of his mind, awed.

"You must understand, not everyone can do what I just showed you. Firstly, you must be a Rider. The Grey Folk were affected by dragon magic, too, although we do not know why, and there was no such thing as a Grey Folk rider. It is the fundamentally elemental nature of the dragons - that they are creatures of wind and flame - are what allowed such magic to be used. Because you two are Riders, your bond with a dragon gives you some of the dragon's nature. Secondly, you must be a descendant of the Grey Folk - for it is the magic in their veins which provides a structure for such a spell, and because the Grey Folk were very close to nature." At the surprised looks on Eragon's and Arya's face, Fiarta continued, "Notice that I did not say that you have to be a pure Grey Folk. I'm sure that you know that the last hundred or so Grey Folk married and mated with other races - elf and human, and gradually became wiped out. You just need Grey Folk blood in you. Lastly, you are either able to do it, or not.

"Now, the spells themselves only allow you to take energy from flame or wind, though that itself is very useful. They do not give you any other kind of control over these two elements, although you will find that you will be able to light a fire or change the wind using the least amount of energy possible. Also, once a spellcaster discovers this ability, he or she also becomes stronger in magic, in senses, and in physical capabilities, though the change doesn't happen for a few days. This is why, though I am human, I have the strength and speed of an elf. Has fire always been natural to you, Eragon?" Fiarta asked abruptly.

"Well, I always instinctively say it - my first spell was _Brisingr, _although I did not know what it meant, and when I killed the Shade Durza, I said_ Brisingr _because I felt the urge to do so," Eragon replied, trying to be as honest as he could.

"Why I ask is because you lit a fire without a word in the ancient language. Continuing, this is a library full of books describing the spell condensed down to this much. Be glad that I did all the analyzing for you two, because the writing of the Grey Folk is hard to understand. I burnt that library down before I left so the evil king Galbatorix won't ever find it. Anyways, do not expect that you will be able to do this. It will be a miracle if one of you can do this, if both of you can, then fate is very, very, very strange and kind indeed.

"Either you get how to do the spell, or you don't. To get the energy from the fire, you must _turn into_ fire, not literally, of course. The same goes for wind. You must try to be like the fire, relate to the fire, or wind, and once you have linked to it, take the flames and pull their energy into you. I can perform this for fire, but not for wind. Try do that now."

Eragon looked at Saphira. _If I have any chance of performing this spell, it'd be fire. I don't think I can do it for wind. But fire, maybe."_

Saphira agreed. _I shall light a flame for you. _She opened her jaws and out poured living, blue fire, full of energy and heat.

Eragon sat down. He slowed his breathing down, until he was calm. Then, drawing on Saphira's help, he tried to be the fire, to become one himself. _Should I be a raging fire, or a calmed one? It doesn't matter. _Eragon pushed his conciousness at the fire gently, but try as hard as he might, he could not get in.

Eragon looked deep inside his mind, searching for his pool of magic-power. He entered his power, and, thinking of fire, tried to set it ablaze. It worked. Now Eragon was part fire, he realized. Once again, Eragon thrust his conciousness at the fire, and, to Eragon's surprise, entered it. The intense heat of the fire did not scare Eragon now; he stayed with the fire, realizing that fires, in a way, lived - they leapt, danced, and died, just like humans. Once Eragon felt that he was ready, he pulled the energy out of the fire, and felt strength flood into himself. He took this energy for thirty seconds, then pulled out of his fire state, into his human one. Saphira stopped the flow of flames.

Eragon opened his eyes. He saw Arya, Vanilor, Fiarta all staring at him and Saphira intently. "Well?" Fiarta asked.

"I did it!" Eragon exclaimed, letting his shock and hope show. For he had just gained a new hope - hope that with this power, Galbatorix could be defeated. Eragon grinned at their shocked expressions. "I actually became a fire, and got energy!"

Fiarta broke into a huge smile. "I can't believe it! I can't believe it! I discovered two elemental magic users in one day!"

Eragon smiled at Arya. She smiled back hesitantly. "I did it with wind."

_So fitting, _Saphira thought. _She is as graceful as the wind, after all._

Eragon could just sit in awe and shock. They had suddenly been thrust into a world of complex, new magic, magic Eragon was sure Oromis never heard about. And best of all, it was magic that would help them beat Galbatorix.

"This new magic. It makes the world look so different," said Eragon, getting up.

"Aye, that it does." Arya gave Eragon a quick smile. "But in a good way. It puts more hope into me."

Fiarta beamed at both of them. "Let's go see Nasuada, then, if you insist."

"Greetings, Eragon, Arya, Vanilor, Saphira, and Fiarta? Why do I see you today?" Nasuada asked.

Fiarta spoke. "I must tell you my story, Nasuada, though you must swear that you shall reveal my true identity to no one."

"Fine." Nasuada swore the oath.

Fiarta proceeded to tell Nasuada of his story. Nasuada's eyes opened in wonder as she learned the true identity of the old man.

"Maybe if you go to the elves, they might tell you who your dragon really was," Nasuada suggested once Fiarta had finished his story.

Fiarta replied, "I do not wish to go, just to find out all over again that my dragon died. It would be like losing him or her all over again. Besides, I wish to stay with the Varden."

"Are you sure?" Arya asked. "Many of the elves there are from before the fall. There might be a chance that your memory might be sparked. Besides, you could show our masters your new magic."

"New magic?" asked Nasuada.

"We're getting to that." Eragon glanced at Fiarta nervously. "Well?"

"No." Fiarta shook his head. "You may do the interrogating for me. However, I believe that I am better suited with the Varden."

Nasuada shrugged. "Fine. I'll be glad to have you with the Varden. Now what was it about magic?"

_Eragon and Arya have learned to gain energy from the fire and the wind, _Vanilor told her.

Nasuada frowned. "How?"

_Fiarta taught them, _Saphira said_. _

Fiarta then explained the finer points of the magic, and Eragon and Arya each described their own capabilites.

"You have given me much to think about." Nasuada smiled. "But all of it is good. Do you believe you can become powerful enough to defeat Murtagh and Galbatorix?"

"We don't know," Eragon replied. "Perhaps. But there must be a fire, for me. And if I light the fire, then the energy I use to sustain the fire will be greater than the energy I gain from it. This is all unless I burn something, anything, so that the energy of the burnt object also gets released into the fire. It might have worked on the Burning Plains, where there is plenty of coal in the ground, but elsewhere...."

"Aye. Eragon is right," Arya added. "And I can only perform my magic so long as there is wind, and the elements are always unpredictable. Still, these abilities will help."

Nasuada nodded. "Then you may go."


	7. Chapter 7

Murtagh sat next to the campfire, irritated and worried. It had been four weeks since he had sent the green egg to the Varden, but no rumors of a new Rider circled the land. There was no news at all about the fate of the egg, except that it was gone. He could only wait and hope, wait and hope that the new eggs would have landed in the elves hands and hatched. And without the egg hatching, thousands of people in Alagaesia might suffer because of no new Rider to help dispose Galbatorix. Murtagh constantly reminded himself of the suffering families, of his friends among the Varden, and of his brother - he needed a reason to oppose Galbatorix during the war. In the past few weeks, Murtagh and Thorn had spent many long hours thinking of why they should oppose Galbatorix, and why it was right to do so.

Murtagh and Thorn were surprised at how much they had changed in the past month. Before, they did actions to benefit themselves in the future; before, they were self-centered introverts. Now, Murtagh had become much more concerned with the well being of others.

_It all started with Eragon, _he thought.

_Aye. Without Eragon telling us that we could change our true names, and without him being an example for us to base our conduct around, we never would have changed so much, _said Thorn.

Murtagh's true name had changed so much that he was free of most of his oaths to Galbatorix, although he was still bound by some - he still could not escape or attack Galbatorix - but he was free enough to not have to capture Eragon and Saphira anytime he laid his sight on them, unless Galbatorix explicitly told him to do so.

Disobeying Galbatorix was painful, though, as Murtagh and Thorn had learned. Galbatorix blamed them for the loss of the green egg, because it was they who were supposed to be guarding it, and had tortured them for letting it be stolen. Murtagh chuckled. Galbatorix did not know that it was really Murtagh and Thorn who had taken the egg. Neither did Galbatorix seem to know that his control over Murtagh was slipping. Murtagh and Thorn had worked everything out to prevent him from knowing that.

As the wind blew towards him, the unpleasant scent of Urgals wafted over. Murtagh was brought back to reality. He was camped in the middle of the Hadarac desert, with no one but Urgals and another Rider for company, and another crazy mission of Galbatorix to perform. Galbatorix had instructed Murtagh to take over the elf outpost outside Illa Feon, saying it was too great of an opportunity to miss - the elves rarely ventured outside Du Weldenvarden, and Galbatorix badly wanted to capture an elf and take the information of the location of elf cities from one.

Which was why the Urgals were with Murtagh. Murtagh greatly detested these Urgals; they served Galbatorix willingly and out of spite of the other Urgal clans, who were sided with the Varden. Galbatorix had made Urgals accompany Murtagh because he knew humans would not be able to keep up with two dragon and rider.

During the last two weeks, Murtagh had suffered quite a share of surprises, one of them being a new Rider and his silver dragon. Murtagh detested this Rider, who willingly supported and served Galbatorix. Two weeks ago, Galbatorix had announced this news to Murtagh, rendering him great shock. Dismay gripped Murtagh as he realized that once again, life would be more difficult for the Varden.

_What should we do when we reach it? Should we kill the elves, and say they suicided, so we won't have to bring one back to Galbatorix for interrogation_? Murtagh asked Thorn_. I think we should just warn them beforehand, though they won't trust us._

_We can't risk letting anyone know our loyalties until we are completely free of Galbatorix. If Galbatorix finds out that we are partially free, he will just imprison us again with more oaths_, Thorn replied_. Anyways, our oaths prevent us from turning against Galbatorix, and Galbatorix explicitly says we must capture the elves. We are still bound somewhat. I fear we have no choice but to scare the elves into suiciding, or kill the elves. _

_We could make a loud noise to announce our arrivals. We are free enough to do that, although we can't say that directly to the elves._

_I don't know, _Thorn replied. _It seems that in the end, we have no choice but to make the elves die._

_I know. I just wish that were otherwise._

_Me too._

Four days later, Eragon and Arya were rapidly approaching Illa Feon. They would stop at the place Arya had found her egg. Eragon saw smoke rise in the distance.

"Something's wrong," Eragon voiced out loud.

"Aye. We must be careful," Arya replied behind him. She still sat on Saphira, as Vanilor was not big enough to ride yet.

_Saphira. We should go check it out._

Saphira increased her pace in response. So did Vanilor, who was keeping pace with Saphira.

After ten minutes, Eragon saw something that made his blood turn cold in fright - a red dragon.

"Thorn!" he cried, alarmed.

Arya swore under her breath. "We must rescue the elves there. If they are captured, Galbatorix might find out where the elf cities are."

_I must go faster_, Saphira told them. She flapped her wings even harder_. Should we announce our arrivals? _

_Wait until we're closer._

_Saphira and Vanilor, distract Thorn and Murtagh. Eragon and I will search for the elves_, Arya said.

Eragon looked ahead. Ten miles away or so, Thorn was flying over the forest as if scanning for something. He didn't seem to have noticed Saphira yet. The elf outpost was some two miles away. Saphira and Vanilor descended to a lower altitude, until they were barely above the trees. Thorn turned, and Eragon's heart froze. They were spotted.

Instantly, the red dragon came flying over. Saphira and Vanilor continued on, undaunted. One minute passed in silent, anxious flight.

"Now!" Eragon yelled, and the dragons swooped low over the ground. Once they were ten feet above, Eragon and Arya jumped off the dragons. They sprinted towards the elf building, crashing through branches and bushes. They reached a clearing where the building stood. Eragon's breath stopped as in the middle of the clearing, in a pool of blood, with an arrow sticking out of her head, lay a elf woman.

Arya gave a distressed cry at seeing the fallen elf, and sprinted towards the clearing.

"NO! NO! DON'T FIRE! HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU NOT TO FIRE?", a voice suddenly shouted. Eragon recognized that voice. It was Murtagh. He looked up as he ran at a much slower pace towards the elf.. A few hundred feet to the North were Saphira and Vanilor, facing Murtagh and Thorn. What was it that Murtagh had been yelling against?

As if by answer, a volley of arrows, thirty-six arrows from three directions, flew out from among the trees at Arya.

Eragon turned. Where had the arrows come from? Why weren't they directed at him? There was a flicker of movement, and he saw the horns of an Urgal.

Any further time for thought was lost as the arrows neared Arya. He called out to Arya, warning her of the arrows, while at the same time, he performed a nonverbal spell to stop the arrows. The arrows just pierced through the spells.

Eragon reached twenty feet of Arya, who had dodged all the arrows. Hearing another twang, he glanced up and gasped in surprise. On the wall of the outpost on top of a silver dragon sat a man whom Eragon had known all his life, a man whom Eragon had presumed dead. "Roran!"

Roran gave Eragon an evil smile. "Hello, cousin."

Dismay and shock gripped Eragon, as he realized Roran had released the arrow. _The arrow! _Eragon saw the streamlined black dart quickly rushing towards Arya. She stood no chance of dodging it; it travelled at twice the speed of a regular arrow.

Suddenly, Eragon's passion for Arya overtook his mind, and an obsessive desire to protect his love reached his mind. Severing his connection with Saphira so that she wouldn't perish as well, he decided that he would give his life for Arya. Somehow, he summoned the energy to dive in front of Arya, before the arrow reached her. The cold, hard tip of the arrow sank into Eragon's chest.

Saphira roared.

Arya heard a yell and turned. She froze as she saw the arrow coming towards her. This would be her end, she knew. But then she saw another streak of light, faster than the arrow. In horror, she saw Eragon dive in front of her. The arrow sank into his flesh instead.

"Eragon!" she cried.

"No! Eragon!" Arya heard another man yell, and Saphira roar. "Roran, you damn idiot! Slytha! Deyja!" she heard the man bark, although she wasn't paying attention, too intent on Eragon.

Arya rushed over and knelt at the fallen man's side, seizing Eragon's hand and taking his pulse. His heart was still beating. Hands trembling, she cut open Eragon's tunic and examined the wound. The arrow glistened, and on it dripped a sticky liquid - poison.

Eragon opened his eyes, and said, "Make sure Saphira doesn't mourn me. Comfort her after I am gone. Good bye, Arya. I love you." He closed his eyes.

"No! I'll save you! You won't die!" she yelled, desperate. Looking up, she saw Saphira flying towards her. Hastily, she put Eragon on Saphira's back and then went up herself.

The dragon took to the sky.

"Wait!" Murtagh yelled. "Letta!" He immobilized Arya, Saphira, and Vanilor.

Angry, Arya summoned her magic, ready to blast him out of the way.

"I mean no harm!" Murtagh yelled in the Ancient Language. "Take this, and give it to Eragon when he wakes up! It is harmless; it only contains my memories. I will kill the Urgals who did this. And the silver Rider works for Galbatorix." He tossed Arya a earring with a saphira embedded in it. "The poison is Brown-leafed Death, high enough concentration so that he'll die in two hours if he doesn't get the antidote. It's mixed with a mind poison that will stop all of his limbs in seven minutes."

_Catch it, _Vanilor told her.

Obeying, Arya caught the earring, and pocketed it. Then she proceeded to work on the wound, pulling the arrow out. Try as she might, she could not make the wound close. _That doesn't matter now. I need to stop the mind poison. It's already been three minutes or so. _

She plunged into Eragon's conciousness, and was relieved to find that Saphira and Vanilor were already pouring energy into him to keep him alive. Taking a deep breath, Arya searched Eragon's mind for the deadly trail of poison. The more she looked, the more dismay she felt - poison practically blanketed Eragon's mind; it would be extremely difficult to gather up all the poison and destroy it.

_It must be done. Eragon died for me, and I'll be heartbroken if he dies. I don't want anything to happen to him. _

Drawing upon her own power, Arya sent a net of energy into Eragon's mind, as she had learned to do in Oromis's lessons. She performed a quick spell to absorb the poison. Suddenly, she was aware of Eragon's faint heartbeat, a clock that counted his life down. She realized that Eragon's limbs were starting to shut down.

Fear gripped Arya, but her mind remained clear. She quickly gathered up the poison, not caring how rough she was to Eragons mind - she had to save him in time. Once the poison was rolled up by her power, heart beating quickly, Arya quickly strung needles of magic through the poison - but the needles wouldn't go through! Thirty seconds left, she realized. Hastily, she redoubled her efforts, and forced her magic needles through the thick poison. Time was of essence; and, quick as she was working, Eragon's life was slowly ticking away.

She would not let him die. When the strands of magic criss-crossed through the interior of the poison, she hastily pulled the magic apart - and the poison disintegrated into fine dust.

Arya pulled out of Eragon's mind, exhausted. She had healed Eragon's mind. Now she had to heal his body.

They were reaching the edge of the Du Weldenvarden, where the trees were suddenly bigger and wider.

_Saphira! We must land! The magic of the barriers will not allow dragons to fly in_. Arya could sense Saphira's panic as she touched her mind - she was worried sick over Eragon.

Saphira dove to the ground steeply, pulling up just as the ground was about to impact them. Then, without hesitation, she sprinted into the forest, bulldozing the trees in her way. After five minutes of running, Arya could feel the magical barriers disappear - they were inside.

Without speaking a word, Saphira took off again. Arya searched with her mind for the elfen city of Ila Feon. She touched the mind of the leader of the city, and said_, Gather your best healers. Eragon is poisoned by the Brown-leafed Death. Make the antidote, and send it to be by magic. He has only about forty - five minutes more, and we are have just passed inside the Du Weldenvarden. _

_As you wish, Arya Drottingnu._

Arya then turned towards Eragon. She remembered learning about the Brown-leafed Death when she was training as an ambassador. The poison's antidote needed to be rubbed onto the wound, and then forced down the person's throat. But she still bandaged Eragon's wound, using his cut up tunic, or else he would lose too much blood and die.

She stared towards Eragon's calm face. If she had not known better, she would have thought that he was asleep. Eragon's previous actions had erased any doubt in Arya about his love for her. Sniffing, Arya realized that Eragon truly loved her. He was willing to give up his life for her, and in the end, on his last words, he had spoken in the Ancient Language.

What did she feel for him? Her confused thoughts sent her mind in turmoil. Vanilor, noticing her distress, asked_, Arya? Are you alright?_

_He loved me. He really did. I need... I need to be alone._

Vanilor obliged.

Gently, Arya reached out into Eragon's conciousness, and was shocked, seeing how little life force was left inside him. Immediately, she funneled more energy into him, adding to the steady stream that Saphira was already contributing. Vanilor did the same. Arya was surprised that her store of energy had increased, a result of the magic Fiarta had taught her. The gain in strength and speed he described was beginning to take effect.

As she funneled her energy into Eragon, Arya's mind once again strayed towards her feelings for him. She felt some sort of affection, some sort of attraction to him, though how strong it was she knew not. She had begun to feel that ever since they had started for the Varden; that was why she had been so brusque with him that night in the middle of the Hadarac. Not yet ready to love, not yet reconciled with Faolin, her previous mate's, death, Arya not liked feeling those emotions towards Eragon.

They flew on in silence for twenty minutes, while Eragon gradually weakened. Exhaustion gripped the dragons and Arya, but they would not succumb - to succumb meant to give up on Eragon, also. And so, tired as they were, they maintained the steady flow of energy towards Eragon. Arya began to panic. The healers had to be ready with the medicine.

Five minutes passed. Still no sign of the medicine being ready. Another five minutes. Arya's heart was beating furiously; she was in agony. She might have to accept the possibility that Eragon would die. Another five minutes. Arya was perilously close to fainting from giving Eragon so much energy, but she held on. Five more minutes. Arya's mind began to grow hazy. Eragon only had a few more minutes to live, and his body was sapping energy at an extremely fast rate.

The fog in Arya's mind cleared as she felt a healer contact her_. We have prepared the medicine. Pour half the bottle on the wound, make him drink the other half. Give us your location. _

Arya let Vanilor explain; he was much better in directions. Ten seconds later, a vial with a yellow gellike liquid materialized in a clearing below them. Roaring in relief, Saphira landed, and Arya nimbly jumped off, carrying Eragon down next to the medicine.

With trembling fingers, she unstoppered the cork, tore off the makeshift bandage on Eragon's chest, and poured half the bottle on the wound. The gash left by the arrow greedily absorbed the medicine. The medicine stayed there, a yellow film. She forced open Eragon's mouth and dumped the rest of the bottle inside, then forced him to swallow. She desperately hoped that the medicine would work.

Putting her head on Eragon's muscular chest, she listened for Eragon's heartbeat. There was none. Fear twisted Arya's gut. She looked at Saphira, who was standing, long tongue out, breathing heavily in fatigue.

_Well_? Saphira asked.

Arya forced herself to calm down_. I gave him the medicine, but he has no pulse. _

Saphira's alarm seeped through their connection_. He's still alive. I didn't feel him die. _

Then Arya felt a tiny thump. Relief and joy welled up inside Arya. That thump was a harbinger of good news; it indeed meant Eragon was still alive. She sat up.

_A pulse!_

Arya felt Saphira's relief too_. That is good. _

Arya contacted the healer again_. What do I do next? _

_You wait. If you did everything properly, he will recover in about three hours. However, if he was mind poisoned, you should expect that he will start having dreams in an hour or so. You must stop these dreams, or else he and his dragon will go mad._

_Thank you_. Arya broke the contact with the healers mind.

A sense of grogginess caused by extreme fatigue overwhelmed Arya's mind. She instantly fell asleep, unintentionally wrapping her arms in an embrace around Eragon. Her head lay on his shoulder.


	8. Chapter 8

Arya sat by Eragon's bed, worried, as he still had not woken up even after two days. During those two days, Arya had not left his side at all, feeling that it was her duty to watch over him given how he had protected her from the poisoned arrow. And although Arya did not want to admit it now, she felt more than just a sense of duty; she cared for him as a friend and perhaps something more than that.

She sighed and rubbed her eyes. _Not these thoughts again. He and I can never be together. _And yet, as Arya watched his peaceful, sleeping face, she felt a sudden longing for him. How she wanted to embrace him, to lean her head on his comforting shoulder. Eragon had become a solid block in Arya's life, one that she could lean on and rely on for support. She felt that besides Faolin and Vanilor, she found it easiest to talk openly and freely to him. But she would never talk as freely to him as she did to Faolin, because while she could tell Faolin that she loved him, she could not bring herself to admit her growing feelings for Eragon.

The more she thought of Eragon, the more she wanted him, and she felt a sort of passion develop in her heart. Finally, she could bear watching him like this no longer. She leaned over, drawing closer to Eragon.

She sensed Vanilor's curiosity. _Arya! What are you doing?_

Arya ignored Vanilor and placed a gentle hand on Eragon's cheek, letting all of her passion and ardor flow into that gesture.

The door opened and a healer stepped in. Arya quickly pulled back. The healer's eyes widened almost imperceptibly, although Arya noticed this movement with her trained eye. The healer did not show any change in his bearing, though.

"Has he had any fever?" asked the healer.

"No. He has been peaceful."

"Good. He should probably wake up in a day or two."

Arya nodded. Then she asked, "Will he be alright? Will the poison..." Arya searched for the right word. "...damage him?" Although Arya feared the answer, she needed to know.

The healer looked at Eragon solemnly. "All the signs so far show that he will make a complete recovery. His body will be back to a hundred percent, and so will his mind. I believe that once he wakes, he should stay and recover for two days, and then he can leave. There will still be a faint scar on his chest, though."

Relief coursed through Arya. "That is good to hear."

"I'm surprised you were able to save him," said the healer.

"I could not let him die," replied Arya softly. "He is important to all of us as a Rider.... And he is good friend."

The healer nodded. "Yes, he is. If he had not been saved, then our hopes would fall once again."

At this point, Arya felt obliged to say, "He took an arrow that was meant for me."

"Ah," said the healer, who decided not to comment further, probably seeing that the conversation had begun straying to personal issues. He walked over to Eragon, checked his pulse and temperature, and, appearing satisfied, declared, "His pulse and temperature are all right. Everything seems pointed towards a full recovery."

After the healer had left Arya, Vanilor amusingly said, _What was it that you just did to Eragon? _

Arya sighed. _I don't know. How can I explain myself when I am confused myself? I am confused about my feelings for Eragon, and how I should react to them. _Opening her mind up, she shared with Vanilor the emotions she had previously hid from him - her confusion, fear, and reluctance to love again.

Minutes of silence passed, then Vanilor said, _I am not familiar with the ways of two-legs-pointed-ears, sadly. In what you are about to do, you must choose your own decision, although I believe that you should confess your feelings for him. It would clear things up. _

_I know_. Arya's mind strayed to Eragon again. He really did love her, she realized.

* * *

The next day, at noon, Eragon woke up, feeling utterly exhausted. He had experienced nightmares while sleeping. He saw Arya sitting and watching him, relief evident on her face. The past events came to him in a flash. _Why am I alive? _Then Eragon remembered something else. _Roran!_

"You're awake," she said. She looked slightly uncomfortable around him, although Eragon did not know why. "Thank you for stopping the arrow for me, Eragon."

Eragon nodded. Anxiety crept through him as he wondered what had happened, but he kept it out of his voice as he said, "Where's Saphira?"

"Hunting."

"What happened while I was out?"

Arya reached into her pocket and handed Eragon a saphire earring. "Murtagh told me to give this to you. He said that this contains some of his memories, and he wants you to show it to no one else."

Eragon took the earring. "Can we trust Murtagh?"

Arya looked uncertain. "He did say it was harmless using the Ancient Language. Look at it if you wish, I guess. It shouldn't do you any harm."

_Good morning, Eragon, _Saphira suddenly said.

_Good morning, Saphira._

_Murtagh and Thorn seem trustworthy. They did help us, _Saphira said. _Though if it does harm you, Eragon, they shall have me to answer to._

Eragon nodded. "I'll save this for later." He carefully put the earring on the table. "Now what happened?"

Eragon listened as Arya told him about seeing the silver Rider, Murtagh talking to them, healing Eragon, and his state for the past two days. Eragon remained silent as he digested this information. It seemed as if Arya did not know the true identity of the Silver Rider, the identity which Eragon was sure would torture his mind.

Finally, after a few minutes of silence, Eragon humorlessly said, "It seems as if my family has provided many loyal servants to Galbatorix."

Arya's emerald eyes pierced his. "What are you talking about?"

"My father and brother are murderers. And my cousin also."

"What is troubling you, Eragon?"

Eragon sighed bitterly. He didn't want to tell, too embarassed about the truth.

_You cannot help who your family is, Eragon. Don't let that define you. Forge your own character, _Saphira said in a comforting tone. _It hurts me to see you so distressed. At least tell someone who can comfort you, like Arya. Don't withdraw into a shell like a turtle._

Eragon was about to retort, but the door opened and the healer stepped in. "Ah, I see that you are awake, Shadeslayer!"

They introduced themselves to each other. The healer said, "Do you feel fine?"

"Perfect," said Eragon humorlessly.

"Stand up."

Eragon obeyed with difficulty, his legs cramped. 

The healer nodded. After a few more inspections of Eragon's health, the healer removed the bandage on Eragon's chest. "Your wound healed now, though it will scar."

Eragon looked down at his bare, muscular chest. There was a one - inch red mark on his right chest."At least I live."

"You are not cleared to leave; you need to recover still."

"Of course."

After the healer left, Saphira said to Eragon, _Tell her._

_Only so that Arya can look at me with contempt?_

_Contempt? _Saphira scoffed. _She does not look at you that way, and she never will. You are feeling sorry for yourself, Eragon._

_Fine, _he growled.

"My cousin is the Silver Rider," Eragon forced out. "Roran! I grew up with him, and never knew that he would do this! He was the one who shot me."

Arya did not show revulsion, however, but instead said, "You are better than Murtagh and Morzan and Roran, Eragon. That I know." She quickly embraced Eragon, taking him by surprise, although Eragon returned the gesture. She pulled away after a few seconds.

"What can I say? Do not let this disturb you too much. You will always have _our _family. You have Nasuada as a friend. You have Orik as a friend. You have the Varden, whom you are a hero amongst. You have Oromis, and Glaedr. You have me, Eragon."

Eragon smiled, feeling slightly better. "Of course."

* * *

Eragon sat up, breathing heavily. His skin was drenched with sweat, and his heart pounded, as he woke up from the nightmare he had just experienced. He located Saphira with his mind. She was still sleeping.

Another prescence touched Eragon's mind. _Vanilor?_

_Eragon, I need to talk to you._

_Let me sleep, _said Eragon, irritated.

_It is urgent._

_What is it? _snapped Eragon. The nightmare, which was about his family, along with Roran's new position, had made Eragon extremely irritable.

_I need to know.... if you love Arya._

Eragon was shocked, though he did not show any of it. _Why?_

_Just tell me._

_My feelings are my own, Vanilor._

_Of course. But as Arya's partner-of-life, I deserve a right to know who is pursuing her._

_I'm not pursuing anybody, Vanilor._

_Oh? Tell me what you feel for Arya._

_Later._

_Now._

_Later._

_I won't stop pestering you until I know. _

_Arya is a good friend, Vanilor._

_Those are your true feelings for her?_

_Why are you so eager to know? _growled Eragon, quickly losing his temper.

_Arya... is troubled. I need to know if you are an honest man, if you truly do love her. _

_Are you questioning my honesty? _asked Eragon, enraged. The frustration finally broke, and with the weight of the past events boring on his mind, he thrust his innermost thoughts at Vanilor, showing Vanilor the passion that burned in him whenever he thought of Arya, and supplemented his emotions with memories, all the while drilling these thoughts into Vanilor's mind.

_Oh, _said Vanilor. _I'm ashamed that I even asked. Will you forgive me?_

_Just let me sleep, _Eragon snapped back, afraid that he revealed too much.

_Of course. _

Vanilor's prescence withdrew from Eragon's mind.

* * *

Vanilor sighed as his partner-of-life-and-heart Arya was troubled. He could feel her tumultous emotions, and the source of her confusion was... Eragon. How Vanilor longed to set her heart at ease, though he did not know how. After all blue-dragon-partner-Eragon had showed him, Vanilor knew that Eragon truly loved Arya. _Would Eragon let me show her? _he wondered. Vanilor did not like the anguish half-human-half-elf-Rider Eragon felt. He had seen Arya reject him, and many more such memories. And like it or not, he had felt Eragon's need to tell her of his true emotions.

_It is decided, then. I will do Eragon a favor._

_Arya? _he called out. _Are you still troubled about Eragon?_

_Yes._

_Put your mind at rest. Eragon loves you._

_I know that. _

_You don't know how much. _Vanilor projected to Arya the thoughts, emotions, and memories Eragon had given him.

* * *

Arya gasped as she felt the depths of Eragon's love for her the first time. The memory of their meeting after the Agaeti Blodhren hit her first, as she felt Eragon's emotions course through him. He felt so alive, so vibrant next to her. She felt Eragon's every emotion as he spoke. The emotions transfixed her, and made her pay attention to nothing else. All that possessed Eragon's heart right now was a love, a passion so powerful it made her blood burn with life. But the more of the love she felt, the more she realized something about it - Eragon's love for her was unbelievably pure and unblemished, not a single spot of greed on it. It was true love and passion, not greedy, self interest lust. She suddenly realized the depths of Eragon's infatuation for her; it was a love that surpassed any other emotion, a love that would make him want to do anything for her. It was so pure and powerful, it could last through millenias. Then she heard herself say something to Eragon, something that she realized as her now cruel rejection of him. And suddenly, she felt Eragon's anguish. She felt as if her heart were being torn apart; it hurt so much. Her body shook with passion as Eragon's heartbreak and heartache threatened to overwhelm her senses. She felt as if she would never be whole again, as if something in her had died.........

The scene shifted and she felt another memory.

_The day after the Battle of the Burning Plains, Eragon had been given a free day of rest. Earlier that day, he had promised Saphira that he would try to forget his love for Arya, for it was obvious that such a relationship would not work. Saphira had persuaded Eragon to attend a dance held by King Orrin in celebration of winning the battle, in hope that he might find another lady he was attracted to and thus abandon his feelings for Arya._

_Eragon sat at a table, eating. A young lady wearing a blue dress walked by and smiled at him, asking if she could join him at the table. She introduced herself Arianna, the daughter of one of Orrin's top advisers. _

_"Of course," Eragon replied, grinning. The young lady was very beautiful by human standards_. Do you approve, Saphira_? he asked his dragon. Maybe Arianna would help him forget Arya._

Of course I approve, Eragon. She is sincere_, Saphira replied._

_While they ate, Eragon and Arianna had chatted about themselves. Eragon found Arianna very likeable indeed; she wore a charming smile and made witty and clever remarks. She had a light, cheery air around her, readily telling jokes and riddles. The two talked for an hour before, with a blush on her face, Arianna asked nervously in that sweet voice of hers, "Would you like to dance with me, Shadeslayer?"_

_Eragon was caught by surprise with her request, but masked his surprise with a smile. "Of course, Arianna. And call me Eragon, please_." Maybe, maybe if I spend enough time with her, I'll be able to forget Arya, and finally find love in a human like me.

_Eragon sensed Saphira's approval_. Aye, that would be good for you, little one.

_And so he and Arianna danced, her eyes never leaving his face, her mouth always wearing a sincere, charming smile. Eragon knew that he liked this girl. Arianna was an excellent dancer also, very graceful for a human. _

_After two hours of dancing, and several more hours spent doing other activities, he and Arianna had wandered away from the festivities. The sun had already set by now, and they walked around aimlessly, just enjoying each other's prescence, and acknowledging the fact that, in the very least, they had found good friends in each other. What came after that, Eragon could not guess, though he was relieved that he was finally enjoying another woman's prescence besides Arya's. _

_They stopped in a secluded clearing inside the Varden's and Surdans' camp, and stood facing each other. Eragon was five inches taller than Arianna, he realized, and he looked at her eyes as she drew closer. _

_The shade of them shocked them - they were a deep emerald green, just like Arya's_. Arya_... Eragon thought, and he felt as if he could smell her intoxicating aroma of crushed pine needles. Eragon did not notice that Arianna had taken his hands. Suddenly, she leaned forward, and kissed him on the mouth. Eragon wanted to return the kiss, but he could not bring himself to do so. Thoughts of Arya had entered his mind - her beauty, her grace, and the strength that she seemed to radiate. In an epiphany, Eragon realized that he could not - he simply could not be happy with any other woman besides Arya. After all, the kiss that Arianna had given him; although it was passionate, Eragon could not return the passion or the feelings she sent him. _

_Gentily, his heart hurting him, Eragon pushed Arianna back. He simply couldn't. "I'm sorry, Arianna," he whispered, "but I can't."_

_Hurt crossed Arianna's face, and he suddenly, Eragon wanted to scream out in frustration - directed at nobody in particular but at his own heart. "Why not?"_

_"I... I already love someone else," Eragon replied, hating the words he spoke. Love could be a very harsh thing. Bitterly, he added, "Though she won't have me."_

_A tear rolled down Arianna's cheek. _

Is this how I was when Arya rejected me? _Eragon thought. A tear rolled down Eragon's cheek as despair filled him. He blinked, stopping additional tears, not wanting to show the depth of his emotions._

_"But I would have you, Eragon," Arianna replied sadly._

_Frustrated with himself, Eragon replied with a trembling voice, "I cannot. I'm sorry, Arianna."_

_Arianna's eyes were pleading, and it hurt Eragon to look at them. Eragon suddenly felt the impulse to run, run somewhere far away where no one could disturb him. Then perhaps, he might sort out the mess that was his love life. _

_Obeying his impulse, Eragon said, "I'm really sorry Arianna, but I must go. I hope we can remain friends....."_

_Arianna did not reply. With one last look at her, Eragon muttered, "Sorry...Good bye."_

_And he ran, his frustration and anger at himself fueling his steps. He sprinted towards the tent, where perhaps he could sort everything out. Although Eragon felt the questioning probe of Saphira, he ignored her and shielded his mind from her._

_Once inside, Eragon collapsed on his bed and stared up and the fabric ceiling_. If I accepted her, I could have been happy_, Eragon thought bitterly_. I could have someone that loved me by my side_. But then he thought_, Would I truly be happy if the only person I could be happy with is Arya? I would not be able to return Arianna's love. Arya.... She doesn't understand that I truly do love her!

Eragon_? Saphira asked nervously. _

What_? Eragon growled, harsher than he had meant to be._

Are you all right, little one?

No._ Then, in a flat voice, Eragon told Saphira all that happened. _Arianna and I danced. I truly thought that I might begin to love her, I did! We walked and stopped in a clearing, when I noticed her eyes, Saphira. She has green eyes, just like Arya's. _Frustration and despair seeped from Eragon into Saphira. _Arianna kissed me, but I pushed her away.

_Eragon felt Saphira's pity and sadness_. Why? Why must you torture yourself so, Eragon_? she cried, sad for her Rider._

I don't know. I just suddenly realized that no matter how lovely, how attractive a women is, all of them are nothing in my eyes compared to Arya. She is the only woman in the world that I can be happy with. I love Arya, Saphira!

I know you do, little one, but why must you make it so hard on yourself? Could you not at least forget Arya?

No. Try as I might, I cannot free my heart. It is already bound to Arya. I know that there are plenty of other women out there, like Arianna, but I can't. I can't in good conscience marry a wife that I do not love, because Arya holds my heart.

Oh, little one.

I know that Arya won't have me,_ Eragon continued. _I feel as if I am sentencing myself to death_. Despair and anguish filled Eragon, leaving him utterly heartbroken, as he realized the future his heart had sentenced him to_. She won't have me, and yet I won't have anyone else but her.

You will always have me, Eragon. As for Arya... wait. Maybe after time passes, she might change and begin to love you. Or maybe you might move on. But do not dwell on it, please. You'll break both of us with grief if you do. Just try not pursue her anymore.... I love you, Eragon.

I love you too, Saphira.

_That night, Eragon could not sleep; he felt as if he had a gaping hole in his chest where his heart was. He stayed awake until dawn, troubled by his own feelings._

The scenes and emotions once again shifted, though all the thoughts Eragon had projected to Vanilor concerned his love for Arya.

After the memories and emotions had finished, Arya pulled away, shocked. "I'm so sorry, Eragon," she gasped in the Ancient Language. And she felt her own emotions swirl around inside her. Sorrow and remorse filled her as she realized how cruel her treatment of Eragon was. But another emotion filled her as well; the depths of it frightened Arya. It was a passion, a longing for Eragon, a feeling that was similiar to what she had just experienced from Eragon's memories. Quickly, Arya pushed those thoughts away, but, though she tried keep her mind off Eragon, she found that her thoughts kept straying back to him.

* * *

Arya walked into her new tree home, weary after the journey back to Ellesmera. She had moved into a home where another Rider used to stay, as Tiadari Hall could not accomadate a dragon. She herself had moved all her possessions here before departing for the Varden. She and Eragon had arrived at Ellesmera at the night of the second day of flight, and they had decided to rest for one day before meeting the queen and Oromis. Vanilor already lay on his mat, curled up and ready to sleep.

Walking over to her desk, she reached for the lamp to light it and move it to a different location where she thought it looked better. However, exhaustion made her careless, and in retrieving the lamp, she accidentally knocked Faolin's fairth, which stood on the desk, to the ground, shattering it irrepairably. Arya swore several oaths, furious at herself for destroying one of the last objects her mate had left behind.

_What did you do_? asked Vanilor.

Angrily, Arya picked up the shattered pieces of the fairth and threw it into a waste bin_. I broke Faolin's fairth_. She knew Vanilor knew that Faolin was her former mate.

Vanilor did not show sympathy_. Make a fairth of Eragon. _

_Shut up_, Arya snapped, irratible. She searched in her drawers until she found the stones upon which fairths were made. She would make a new one of Faolin, she decided. Concentrating on Faolin's face, Arya poured her love and emotion for Faolin inside the fairth, and muttered the spell. What Arya saw disappointed her, however; Faolin's features were slightly blurry_. I can't be forgetting him so soon_, she thought, dismayed.

_Oh, but you are. You'll have to accept that, Arya_, replied Vanilor.

Arya ignored him. She would make another one, until she got it right. She took another stone, and once again concentrated on Faolin's face and her emotions for him. However, as she thought of her love for him, she found that she could no longer summon her passion for Faolin. Puzzled, Arya poured all her love into the fairth, determined to make a new picture. She released her magic, and looked at her work.

Eragon looked back at her, an expression of passion and love in his eyes, every feature of his crystal clear.

_What is it_? asked Vanilor curiously.

Arya stared at the fairth_. How did I_? She was so shocked that she almost dropped the fairth. Eragon's face was his after the Agaeti Blodhren, the face of an elf's, a handsome, almost angelic face. He carried a tender smile, and compassion and caring was etched on every feature of his face. His brown eyes were that of a man's, not of a immature seventeen year old boy.

Vanilor looked at the fairth and snorted with amusement. _What would you conclude from this, Arya?_

_I...I don't know, _replied Arya, although deep down inside, she knew all along.

_Oh? You know very well._

_Fine_, Arya admitted_. I do have feelings for Eragon._

_That's all_? asked Vanilor_. Only feelings? Nothing more?_

_I don't know_! Arya cried in frustration_. After Faolin died, I thought my heart had died with him! I never wanted to love again. And now, I still don't believe that I can love again. It would be an insult to Faolin's memory. And Eragon and I were not meant for each other. He is a human, and I am an elf. He is young, and I am old. We both have enormous duties which Alagaesia depends upon. Those duties are more important than any individual desires. _

_Arya, you can be happy with him_, Vanilor replied gently_. You love him enough so that what other people think does not matter. You do not have to be a perfect servant of your people, Arya. _

_And I am not a perfect servant_, Arya retorted_. I have my own pains, my own fears, but I disguise them. This is no different. I must disguise my love until I am ready to love again. And Eragon thinks I am perfect. That is another thing. Does he understand that there is more to me than what I show?_

_Arya_... Vanilor protested_. Of course he understands. Would you at least do this for Eragon? You saw his memories. If you loved him, you would try save him from his pain._

_Then maybe I don't love him_! Arya retorted.

_But you do. Arya, are you going to act like how you acted when we were going to the Varden?_

_No. I just need to escape from Eragon. I am afraid that if I am near him, I will only put on another emotionless mask and be harsh with him, just like I did when we were going to the Varden. If I tell him, we will both be distracted._

_Arya! Are you sure?_

_Yes._

_You're a fool, I'll tell you that_. Vanilor sighed_. It's your decision. It would not be right for me to tell Eragon, though I beg of you, do not do this! You will only end up causing pain for both Eragon and you._

Arya only replied_, I must serve my people._

_Your choice. I'm going to sleep. Good night, Arya. _

_Good night, Vanilor._


End file.
